Bondage
by Nyohah
Summary: During the events of the MK2 tournament, Mileena composes a letter that details past events of her life, as the warriors from Earth try to thwart Shao Kahn and Shang Tsung's plans. MK2/Heroic Trio crossover. Complete.
1. Slightly Uncertain Handwriting

**Bondage**  
by Nyohah

1  
**Slightly Uncertain Handwriting**  
in a Small Leather Notebook

* * *

Doctor Yuan Li—

I've almost recovered all of my memories, now. I decided I had better write them down in case they try to take them away from me again. You deserve to know everything that I write here; I owe you that much, even if it is impossible that you will ever get this.

When I said 'they', I meant Shang Tsung and his master—who, by the way, is not Shao Kahn. Tsung's real master is a nameless thing, best described as a demon. Most call him the Demon Master, and some simply refer to him as Evil. He's not the leader of all evil—by all accounts, that would be Satan—but it is rumored that he is the second-in-command, and having experienced his power first-hand, I do not doubt that this could be true. I once belonged to him, and now I belong to Tsung. I would be dead—twice—if they had not interfered.

My chances of living a normal life were ruined when I was only eight years old. I was living with my father and sister. My mother was dead.

She'd died when I was very young. I don't think that she died giving birth to me. I hope she didn't. But I know she was dead before I was very old, as there is no image of her anywhere in my mind.

My father would rarely mention her. The only times I can remember him saying anything about her is when he would tell me that I was going to be just like her some day, just as beautiful. I'm not exactly ugly, as I think you would agree.

The trouble all started one day when my father called my sister, Tung, and I because there was going to be a town meeting. I remember what we were doing very well. I was climbing a tree, while Tung was being mad at me and pretending to read. I had beaten her in a race, again, practically running circles around her, actually. I was a very energetic little girl. My father had once told me I had two settings: off and high. He'd enrolled me in a Wing Chun class to try to harness my energy, and also because my mother had been a great martial artist. I was quite good, if I do say so myself, and I still am, enrolled in this tournament and all, though I'd much rather be with you on Earth, having not even heard of Mortal Kombat.

Everyone was at the meeting that day. Even Mrs. Li and that strange baby boy of hers were there. Everyone said he was stupid because he didn't talk and he was three, one of the reasons we still called him 'baby'. The other was that his older brother was nine years older than he was. The Lis were very good friends with my father. Tung and I slept at the Lis house, as my father was always gone during the night. I don't know why he always left. He just did.

While I didn't understand her younger son, the elder was much more fun. I'd spar with him when he was around. My father taught him martial arts, personally, and rather seriously, spending all his efforts on that boy, which is why he didn't officially teach me. Unofficially, well, let's just say that I was already quite a bit better than your average white belt when I started Wing Chun, and I knew a lot of techniques from other styles, along with acrobatics, my second love.

The whole reason for the village meeting was that some stranger had come to town, from Shanghai. I tried to sit still while the stranger, a wise man, and for the life of me, I can't remember his name, droned on incessantly about wars, and clones, and genocide, and prophecies, but it was really hopeless. I was only eight. How could I be expected to sit through The History of the Universe Part Four and a Half? I would have lost the little patience and self-control that I had, or maybe simply fallen asleep, if two words hadn't stuck out at me.

Shang Tsung.

I had once heard my father curse a man named Shang Tsung—the only time I'd heard him curse anything. So, naturally, I was intrigued and sat up, paying attention to the lecture.

"...All seemed lost," the stranger was saying, "but yet we still have some hope, besides the judges. It has also been prophesied that two small girls have the potential for great power. Two girls who could help destroy the Demon Master and his servants forever. The girls are sisters. The eldest's element should be Wind, while the youngest should have Wind and Air. As you should all know, the combination of Wind and Air is very rare, and very powerful, making for a very fast warrior, with a tendency to jump when she fights."

The stranger then asked all the villagers if they knew of any two girls who would fit the description he offered. Two men immediately grabbed Tung and I, almost desperately, dragging us to the front. Our town was not very well off, that much I can remember, and it always seemed as though they were used to much more than what they had, but that's simply speculation.

We were dragged to the strange man in front. My father stood, but what could he do? There was no stopping this inevitable occurrence. Few people would have helped him; they weren't thinking of us, and they didn't care what happened to him, as long as their pitiful lives might be improved. And I don't think he was well liked; nor were the Lis, for that matter.

The stranger probed our minds, and peered into our souls. He obviously found what he was looking for, and he began to rejoice. "I've found them finally after so many years of searching!" et cetera. He talked to our father, who wasn't at all surprised, but immensely sad, as the last remaining members of his family were taken away from him. We weren't even allowed to say goodbye.

I never saw my father again.

* * *

The stranger taught us martial arts, training us to be warriors of justice, and after a year of constant efforts, my sister had a great start, I was constantly improving, and he'd tattooed a _V_-shaped dart on our forearms. The legs of the shape were on my arm, and the point was on Tung's.

Unfortunately, the wise man and I never got along. I pushed him over the top after a practice mission. Our task had been to protect a crystal that two of Master's male students would attempt to steal.

Tung and I sat and waited for the longest time; this was probably as much a test of patience as anything. We were wearing black pants, a black turtleneck, and a jacket, though hers was white while mine was red. When the boys finally came, we repelled them without too much effort, though I did noticeably much more than Tung did. She was never really into the whole warrior thing. She obviously thought the whole prophecy was nonsense, even if she wouldn't admit it. She had never believed fairy tales or fables, or any kind of story involving magic. So why would she believe that she, of all people, could bring justice and protect the world against evil?

The wise man came in after the boys had been forced to retreat. He began to tell us every single little detail of every single tiny mistake we made. And he griped at me for not letting my sister help me very much, when she could have helped twice as much if she'd have tried. I wasn't stopping her. Okay, so maybe I was a little.

By this time, I'd had enough of his nitpicking, and I lost all my self-control. "Why are you bothering us with these stupid things?" I shouted at him. "We haven't learned anything in months! If this is all you know, then perhaps you can no longer teach me anything!"

"Ching," he replied through his teeth, seething with anger. "If you think that you have learned everything you need to know, then perhaps you need to take the test."

"If this is something you will teach me," I defiantly raised my chin, "then perhaps I do."

* * *

I looked up the cliff at the two tiny figures an immeasurable distance above me. The stranger had left me at the bottom, then teleported himself and Tung to the top (which probably scared her to death, and is maybe what convinced her she could be a hero, since magic was real). Taking a deep breath, I gripped the rope in front of me and began to climb. Why did he feel he had to punish me so badly? I will probably never know. I do know that I hate him. If he'd never done this to me, I wouldn't be so miserable right now, and my life might actually mean something.

I scraped my knees constantly on the rough rocks. My throat burned from the dust. Some of the rocks even shifted or tumbled off when I tried to put my weight on them. It was not an easy test. Oh, it would be now, but I was only nine, and I've never met a nine-year-old girl who had sufficient muscle to climb up a rope a fourth of that distance.

I made it up the first part of the cliff fairly easily, but, inevitably, I tired. There were no ledges on this cliff large enough that I could support my entire weight on them without exerting myself in any way. When I was twenty feet from the top, I knew I would not make it on my own.

"Tung, help me!" I struggled up a few more feet, squealing with fright and pain. She just looked down at me.

"You can climb up on your own," said the stranger. "Or you can fall. No one can help you." He also merely looked at me, as if not seeing my struggle. If he'd helped me I wouldn't be in this mess. If he'd let her help me, I wouldn't be in this mess. But I'd really done it that time, and he was irate.

Tung looked at me, forlornly. It was then that I realized she'd been forbidden from helping me. "Climb! Ching, climb up!" she yelled, as if it would make my exhausted muscles suddenly work again. "Don't fall! Climb!" She finally gave up on being obedient, kneeling at the top of the cliff and stretching out her hand.

The stranger made no effort to stop her, which leads me to believe that he had wanted her to help me the whole time, and lessen my ego—make me realize I sometimes would need her help. But she was very obedient. She hated breaking the rules and being yelled at.

I gratefully reached forward and we wrapped our fingers around each other's wrist, just as my feet slipped from the cliff face, and my other arm gave out. She slid a foot down the shallow incline at the top of the cliff, trying desperately to hold me up.

We both screamed as my sweaty hand slipped through her grasp.

And that is how I fell, both literally and figuratively.

* * *

I couldn't feel my body. There was no pain. I couldn't move. I guess I was dead, and something stalled my spirit to wherever it was supposed to go, whatever afterlife there is.

That something was a man.

But not just a man. He radiated power, more so than Rayden; even at that age, I could feel it. He was not tall, but still imposing, dressed in flowing robes. On his head he wore a headdress with horns that curved to the front, almost pointing to the ground, but not quite. They were like a ram's horns, but yet not. He didn't have this headdress in real life, yet, as it was an honor not yet bestowed to him, but he thought of himself already having them, and therefore that is how I saw him.

*Hua Ching Sa,* he said without truly speaking. *Look at yourself.* At first I thought he was crazy. I couldn't see anything of myself, no matter how hard I tried. Then, he showed me my crumpled body at the base of the cliff. If I'd had a stomach, I would have been sick. *It is sad,* he continued, *such a promising girl's life cut short like this. And the reason? Because you don't need your sister's help in a fight? Because your master is not teaching you anything? That 'wise man' is anything but. He should not have destroyed a gem like you. I could help you, but it would be too much of a commitment for a small girl like you to make.*

He was baiting me, it's obvious now, but I wanted more than anything to be alive again. Besides, I didn't know what he meant. "Please help," I tried to say, but no sound came out. He understood me anyway, probably from reading my thoughts. "I am old enough to make the commitment." I had no idea what I was getting myself into. If I'd only known...

*No, you're not,* he continued to argue. *I cannot make a tremendous decision such as this for you.*

"Please help me!" I implored. He gave up rather easily, as if it was what he wanted in the first place, though I didn't care at the time.

*Well, if you insist, and swear to never break your promise, as there will be dire consequences.*

"Yes, yes I do!"

*Very well. I will save you.* And he did. But honestly, verbal contracts made by children should hardly be binding. Don't you agree?

* * *

Suddenly, there _was_ pain. Most people would think that resurrections wouldn't leave any pain in the body, but just because you're alive doesn't mean your body is completely healed. And you've just been violated by black magic. Maybe that doesn't bother demon sorcerers like Shang Tsung who wallow in it every day, but me? It hurt my soul. And my body, while no longer splattered on the rocks, did have bruises, and my left arm was broken. If he'd spent a little more energy, he could have rid me of that too, but demons are stingy with their power. They always want more, no matter how much they have, like a billionaire who lives in a shack so he doesn't have to pay bills and who won't pay his child support payments because he's afraid he'll lose his money, even as he gets thousands of dollars more each day.

So I was resurrected by one of the worst demons in existence, and thus condemned to lifelong bondage. He told me to call him Master, and if any other demons threatened me, or asked whom I worked for, I should call him "The Demon Master."

He allowed me to say goodbye to my sister, probably to convince me that he was better than the wise man, as, if you'll remember, he didn't even let us say goodbye to our father. Maybe, just maybe, he couldn't have taken me then, if I had not gone with him willingly. I wish I knew. And, also, I don't, because I am afraid that one of my worst fears would then be confirmed.

Tung was lying in the pasture not far from the cliff, sobbing. The stranger was trying, very unsuccessfully, to cheer her up. They were both very surprised when I spoke.

"I thought you were dead. I saw you fall," replied my sister, sniffing. We stood in silence for a bit.

"When I was down there," I tried to explain, "a man came. He saved me."

"That's wonderful! I want to meet him."

"I have to serve him, Tung-Tung."

"Ching-Ching, don't go!" Tung almost started to cry again.

"Master wouldn't want a dummy like me," I half-joked, trying half-heartedly to cheer her up by repeating something she'd said to me the very day we'd been taken away from our father. "I'll miss you. Take care of yourself. Don't cry." I fixed her jacket, turned away and left, never looking back.

Tung called after me, "Ching!" Then I heard the stranger interrupt.

"Let her go." There was a small pause. "Kneel down. Tung, you must stay here. You will continue the training for yourself and Ching. I shall only count on you to uphold justice for me. It's all up to you now."

* * *

We traveled to Hong Kong. The demon master lived in the underworld there, a place almost no one knew existed. Huge pillars glowed with the heat of the earth's core. Evil stone figures of goblins rested on every few pillars. Methane gas made it smell rancid, not to mention hard to breath.

"You're no longer Ching," Master said in his real voice, which was quite different from his spirit voice, as he was a eunuch. "Starting today, you will be known as Number Three." A log hit me in the back of the head, and I lost all memory of my father and sister as I fell, crying out from pain. I didn't recover it for fourteen years.

* * *

I believe I mentioned the Mortal Kombat tournament earlier. It is supposedly the way Earth is protected from Shao Kahn and his endless quest to take over the universe. I haven't seen much of Shao Khan yet. I can tell you that he is a huge man-like creature. He wears almost nothing and a death's head mask. Shang Tsung is a demon necromancer who once upon a time was human, Chinese, I think. Those two lead the team I'm on, the Outworld team, the 'bad guys'.

There are five others fighting for Outworld, including myself. One is a mutant beast named Baraka who has so little loyalty he would betray his own mother. He has no hair, jaundice skin, giant blade-like teeth in an oversized mouth, huge blades surgically implanted in his arm that he can slide in and out of his dry flesh at will, and he usually crouches like the animal he is. The other male is also not human. He looks like he is when he is wearing his ninja uniform, but everyone knows under the mask is a shape-shifter chameleon of unparalleled skill. In fact, he can change his skin pattern so quickly that it appears he is invisible. If he wasn't so blindly loyal to Shang Tsung, he would be all right.

The other three of us—Kitana, Jade, and I—all look like triplets, except that Jade has a little darker skin, and her hair is dark brown, while mine is pure black, and Kitana's is just a shade on the browner side of black. The resemblance between us is especially heightened when we wear our fighting outfits: a skin-tight leotard, black fitted belts around our waists, thin, flexible boots that stop just above the knees, gloves that stop mid-bicep, and masks, which hide the differences in our faces. Our eyes, except for their color (mine violet, Kitana and Jade's black), are also almost identical, so Kitana and I are extremely hard to tell apart when wearing masks, besides the fact that I am slightly smaller. My outfit is violet, and I have sais hidden in my boots, while Kitana's is blue and she has fans made of razor-sharp blades. Jade's is—what else—green, and she has boomerangs with a blade lining one side, and a bo that has a tendency to appear out of nowhere. For some reason, though, yesterday she had fans. I am a little curious as to just what role she is going to play in this tournament. Also, we each specialize in a different area of sorcery. Mine is teleportation, Kitana's is telekinesis, and Jade's is invisibility and intangibility. My only explanation for her disappearing bo is that she turns it invisible and intangible and somehow managed to attach it to herself so it can be in her hands when she releases it from her spells.

Our opponents are also quite interesting. First and foremost is Liu Kang, an Order of Light monk, fire elemental, and winner of the previous tournament. Next is Kung Lao, also an Order of Light monk, and the owner of a rather eccentric hat trimmed with a razor blade. Rayden is the 'god' of thunder, and a survivor of the previous tournament; most of our opponents are his Chosen Ones, for he is the protector of the realm of Earth. Unfortunately, he reminds me of the Demon Master, with the lightning and power and all. Johnny Cage is also a survivor, and a (rather vain) movie star wishing to prove that he is a true martial artist. Major Jackson Briggs, a.k.a. 'Jax', is Lieutenant Sonya Blade's partner in the U.S. Special Forces. Sonya and her nemesis, Kano, survived, but did not escape from the previous tournament. They're chained up on either side of Kahn's throne in the arena.

The last two fighters were surprises, and we're not quite sure exactly what side they're on. Sub-Zero is a Lin Kuei ice ninja who supposedly died in the first tournament, but somehow showed up again, once again determined to assassinate Shang Tsung or die trying. Scorpion also returned, probably to try and kill him again, for Sub-Zero murdered him before, and Scorpion is not truly alive; under his mask lies a skeleton's head.


	2. The Deceptions of Demons

**Bondage**  
by Nyohah

2  
**The Deceptions of Demons**  
First Day of Mortal Kombat

* * *

Pounding on her door startled the woman writing, causing her to drop her pen. Soon, a voice accompanied the abuse to the door.

"Mileena! Hurry up! We're going to be late!"

The woman quickly hid her pen and the small leather notebook she had been writing in. She headed to the door, barely remembering her mask before she exited. Kitana stood just outside the door, anxiety easy to read on her expression, even from just the shining black eyes that showed over the sapphire mask. "Come on, we have to hurry."

"You already said that," mumbled the woman, as they headed off, double time, to the arena, and she adjusted the violet silk that covered her mouth and nose. As they rounded the last corner, she straightened her posture, assuming an assertive stance. Everyone else was already there, except Jade. Once again, Mileena questioned what the third female ninja would be doing in this godforsaken tournament.

"Finally, you decide to join us, ladies. I suppose you've never heard of being punctual." That had been a typically snide comment by Shang Tsung, who was informally in charge. He was the one who'd suggested another tournament, as well as created the original Mortal Kombat, and Shao Kahn would much rather watch the fighters than actually participate or interact with them. Shang Tsung, on the other hand, loved to verbally torture them. "As you are now here, I will give you all the details of this new tournament. They're a little different than the former. There are only eleven of you, which rules out a bracket tournament. Instead you will fight until you have been defeated three times. One of you will have to sit out each day until we have an even number. On your third loss, your opponent has the option of killing you, but _only_ on the third loss. Once a winner is determined from you eleven, they will proceed to fight me, then Kintaro, and then, finally, Shao Kahn, if they make it that far, which they won't."

"Kintaro?" joked Johnny Cage, his always-present sunglasses masking the gleam in his eyes. "Is he by any chance related to Goro?" He meant it to be funny, but the joke fell flat. At the demon sorcerer's smile, he actually thought about the connotations of such a thing, as Rayden, Liu Kang, Kung Lao, and Scorpion already had. All five tensed up, praying that it was not true.

"As a matter of fact, no." A very visible wave of relief washed over them; they exhaled one great sigh in unison. "But they are the same species. And Kintaro is even bigger than Goro!" declared Tsung impishly. The Earth warriors' reactions returned, some lowering their heads, some groaning. Mileena found herself analyzing them. Kung Lao probably knew of Goro from his ancestor having once beaten him, or from Liu Kang telling him of the Shokan. Liu Kang, Rayden, Scorpion, and Johnny Cage had all fought in the previous tournament. Jax had probably never heard of him, as Sonya hadn't returned, the very reason he had come. But Sub-Zero had fought in the tournament; he had seen Goro. She noted this, and it began to bother her.

"We will be having five matches today. They will end when a fighter is knocked unconscious, or is forced to surrender, which I hope will never happen. First fight is Sub-Zero versus Scorpion. We like to start our tournaments off with a bang."

* * *

After her match, Mileena sat down for a few moments, only to find that she was too restless to sit. She paced the halls of the palace, aimlessly wandering, and trying to sort out her thoughts. She wandered by a waiting hall and decided to sit in there, away from the demons. She was surprised to see that Sub-Zero had gotten a similar idea.

He was sitting at a table with his elbows on it and he rested his head on his hands, his cheekbones pressed against the back of his hands, as if he were studying the grain of the table.

Having nothing better to do, Mileena walked over and sat across from him.

"Hi Subby...can I call you Subby?" He stared at the table. "Do you talk?" No sound came from the ninja. "Do you move?" He did not move either. "Can you imitate a rock?—Very good!"

Finally, he lifted his head up, slightly. "Why does he hate me?"

"What was that? Rephrase your question. You can use a Chinese language, if you need to."

"Scorpion," he explained. "I could practically feel it, like it was a tangible thing. Why?"

"Well, I dunno, you did kill him, but that's no reason to hate anyone," she said sarcastically.

Once again, the ninja looked down at the table.

Mileena sighed, and tried to get him to open up again, for a reason she could not quite grasp and pinned as boredom and the lack of anything better to do. "You did really good in your fight," she said, both meaning it, and hoping flattery would work on the fighter, yet somehow knowing it probably wouldn't. "You're pretty quick, for an ice ninja," she added, half to herself, after she received no response.

"Actually," he whispered, "I'm water."

"Really?" She tilted her head curiously.

"The Lin Kuei way of using power naturally translates water to ice." He sunk even lower, and his voice, too, dropped, to a level barely audible. "It's not a good thing."

"Hmm," she said thoughtfully, trying to decide what he meant, and to get him to elaborate, but an appearance at the door stopped her. "Oh, hi Kung Lao."

"Am I missing all the fun?"

"Not really. He talked to me. It was exciting."

"He talks? Amazing."

"Yes, very—hey, I think he's blushing!"

"What?" Kung Lao gave her a look that all but screamed, _psycho alert!_

"Look!" Mileena pointed at Sub-Zero.

He buried his face, though already covered with a mask, in his hands, and sunk even lower.

Kung Lao raised an eyebrow at the woman. "How can you tell? He's wearing a mask. And he was facing the table!"

"No, really. I had a...friend who blushed all the time. I can pick it out from a mile away. He was!"

"Whatever." Kung Lao sat next to Mileena. "Do you think he's going to sit up again? He's barely done anything the entire time we were here. We didn't think he was capable of speech."

"Don't forget that he talked to me."

"You must have some amazing feminine charms to make him sp—" He sharply cut off his sentence and half-cringed as Shang Tsung stepped into the room.

"Are you hiding from me?" he said. "It took me forever to find you three. We've finished all of today's matches, and I'd like to congratulate you three on your win. Guess what your prize is!"

Kung Lao looked hopeful. Sub-Zero actually moved. Mileena rolled her eyes.

"You all get to fight at least three more times! Doesn't that make you absolutely ecstatic?"

Kung Lao and Sub-Zero both collapsed onto the table, not at all enjoying their reward. Feeling proud of himself at ruining yet two more people's days, the sorcerer strode out of the room.

"Imp," said Mileena. She looked at her companions, expectantly, waiting for someone to say something, but the light-hearted mood had been broken.

"I would have to agree, Mileena," said Kung Lao at last, "but I really ought to get some rest. Bloodbath tournaments and tired people don't mix."

He left. Mileena looked at Sub-Zero. She even leaned her head down to his eye level, trying to get some sort of a response. It was no use. She stood up.

"Subby, has anyone ever told you that you act like you're catatonic?" She turned and left, but she could have sworn she heard a slight exhaling sound that could have been a quiet laugh.

* * *

Kitana grunted as she pushed herself through the hole in the ceiling. Jade had told her the way to the secret room she had found. Kitana hoped it was worth the effort. This hole was barely half a meter square. She placed all her weight on one small rafter, praying to Master Kahn that it would hold her. This building was older than anything else she had ever seen.

Or that she remembered she had seen.

She pictured the scene in her head, as clear as though it had happened a moment ago, instead of four years. She had awoken, quite confused, in a hospital bed, Shang Tsung sitting next to her, looking distraught.

"My Princess Kitana!" he exclaimed when she sat up, then frowned. "You do remember you're Princess Kitana, don't you?"

Kitana had nodded, feeling more confused by the second.

"I'm so sorry," Tsung had continued. "We didn't mean for this to happen."

"What?" she asked, desperately. "What happened?"

"Oh, you don't remember any of it," he groaned. "You were hurt very badly. You were in a coma for almost a year. You've suffered head injuries. Now we're afraid you may have amnesia."

"Amnesia?" The princess was quite panicked by this time.

"How much do you remember? When was your last birthday?"

"The last birthday I remember," she had answered, thinking deeply, "was my twentieth."

Shang Tsung had cursed, looking horrified. "Are you completely certain that it was your twentieth?"

She thought harder. "Yes. Master Kahn gave me my ninja outfit, and my fans, and I was only supposed to get those on my twentieth birthday."

Shang Tsung stared at the ground, not daring to meet her shining black eyes. "My Princess, in that case, you are missing nearly nine thousand, nine hundred, and seventy-eight years of your memory."

At first, she hadn't believed that she could be so old. She only looked as though she was in her early twenties. But he had explained to her how she was of a great race that lived millions of years, that most all of the Outworlders were of this race, except for the mutants, who didn't live anywhere near as long, the Shokans, who lived longer, and the Centaurions, who lived nearly as long as the Shokans.

It was all so confusing to her. She felt as though she had been stripped of most of her life unfairly, and she thanked Master Kahn for even remembering the little that she did.

Jade was suspicious of this. Of course, Jade was suspicious of everything. That was why she knew every secret entrance—there was nearly one hundred—and crept around the castle spying on people, though Kitana had tried to get her to stop. She had met Jade just after she awoke from her coma. Jade had been taking care of Master Kahn's business in place of Kitana for the year she'd been incapacitated.

And now Jade had found this place, and she insisted that Kitana visit it. She'd told her almost a month ago, but with the preparing for the tournament, Kitana had just now been able to see it.

She replaced the ceiling tile that led into the passage. It was cut on an angle so it would stay in place, and it was cut so well that one couldn't tell from the outside. The rest of the thousands of tiles in this hallway were glued to the ceiling; she knew because she'd tried the wrong one several times, even with Jade's instructions. She wondered how Jade had found the time to inspect every one. Then she remembered Jade's uncanny ability to turn herself not only invisible, but intangible as well. _She probably just walked through the walls until she found a passage, and then found the proper entrance._

The passage was completely dark. Kitana silently cursed herself for not bringing along a light, and placed her hands against the opposite sides of the tunnel, feeling her way around, not ever actually lifting up her feet. She concentrated on the directions, repeating Jade's exact words. _Turn right at the first opening, then follow that hallway until it stops, and then turn left. You can't miss it. It's huge. There's a lantern right inside the door._

She had managed to get up enough courage to walk normally, when she slammed into the dead end at the end of the second hallway. She sighed as she picked herself up off the floor, and followed the final hallway until the walls on both sides disappeared.

Just as Jade had said, there was a small lantern sitting by the door on the right side. Kitana opened it, and used the flint inside to start a small fire. The light quickly grew to a brightness far beyond what the tiny flame should have managed, and Kitana wondered if the lantern was enchanted. Perhaps she should keep it.

The room was huge, and filled with books and chests of all sorts. They were all separated into piles. Hundreds of piles. Perhaps even thousands of piles. She studied the books on the closest and saw they all contained the word _Edenia_. The one opposite of it was _Mandalore_. Nearby, there was also _Shokan_, _Kloesh_, _Meerta_, and _Chiss_. She picked up the top book on the first pile, not only because it was the closest, but also because the book on top had no dust on it, like everything else in the room except for the lantern.

_Narrative of Downfall: Edenia,_ she read.

_Edenia was the site of the capital for the Union, the twelve inhabited planets with interplanetary communication in this galaxy. Edenia was also the last to fall to Shao Kahn._

Then it launched into the history of the planet, practically starting with the first bacteria that ever appeared. Kitana flipped through the book, and found that it opened to one page. A page whose corner had been folded down, exaggeratedly, so that anyone looking at this book could hardly miss it. Obviously folded down by a person recently, obviously Jade. The contents of this page shocked Kitana, forcing her to sit down and rethink everything she believed in. More importantly, this paragraph: 

_Then Master Shao Kahn took the daughter of the treacherous snake, the Union's Emperor Yuen Jer Rod and his bride, the Edenian Empress Sindel. The baby's name was Kitana. She was nine months old at the time Master Kahn killed her father, and her mother killed herself. She had been born in the fall of the year, by the Gregorian calendar of the planet Earth, 1974._

Kitana had dropped the book after reading this, and oddly enough, the first thought that ran through her head was _What year is it now? 1998? So, I'm only twenty-four. There never was any amnesia. I was never in a coma. There was never any accident. It was all a lie._

She stood from the position she'd taken on the floor and yelled, "A _lie_!" She threw the book onto its pile. "My whole life is a lie!"

Then her voice softened, and took on a very dangerous tone, as she picked up the book again, planning to take it back to her room and learn about her true parents. "You will pay for this Kahn. I swear on the stolen souls of my dead people."


	3. Life in the Underworld

**Bondage**  
by Nyohah

3  
**Life in the Underworld**  
Letter to Yuan Li

* * *

You should be proud of me. I made a friend. Okay, so Kung Lao and I had a similar goal in verbally torturing Sub-Zero, but _he did blush_! Take that, Kung Lao.

Speaking of Sub-Zero, something is not right about him. First of all, as I mentioned above, he's supposed to be dead. Also, he used to be kind of cocky, and arrogant. Now he's quiet and withdrawn? And he didn't know what Goro was. He was in the same tournament as Goro; he should know what Goro was (a four-armed giant). Death or near-death experiences can cause changes—I of all people should know that—but still, he seems too different. He didn't even seem to remember that he killed Scorpion. He actually asked me why Scorpion hated him!

And, oh, yeah, the ice ninja barely beat the demon. It was a very exciting fight, with ice and spears flying everywhere, though eventually, Sub-Zero beat Scorpion without relying on his powers, instead using quick and powerful strikes. He's surprisingly fast, for an ice elemental, I even told him so, and he claimed to be merely water.

Baraka beat Jax in their match, and the only interesting part of it was Shang Tsung barely stopping Baraka from killing Jax, which I learned from Kitana later, as I couldn't make myself stay. I know I should have. Kung Lao fought Kitana, and he throws that hat of his, as I suspected, but it still sounds funny on paper. It was a pretty close fight, and judging from her praise of his reaction time and speed, I'd bet a great deal that he is a wind elemental, like me. I fought Rayden, on the bridge over the Pit. He was strong, but slow. He has a totally unfair way of flying across the arena like a torpedo, and you can't duck under it, although if you block, he ricochets off, making it very easy to do some major damage to him. I won, of course. After I beat him, I contemplated throwing him off the side and watching him splat on the ground, just to give his divine ego a check, but considering how psycho Shang Tsung went when Baraka almost killed Jax, it's a good thing I didn't find out what it would be like if someone actually got killed after only one loss. Liu Kang got to sit out because he won the last tournament, beating Shang Tsung, and you would not believe the hatred Tsung feels for the monk. I've also decided that I don't like Liu Kang. His holier-than-thou attitude really gets on my nerves. Just because he's 'The Chosen One,' he thinks he's practically a god. And it's not a White Lotus thing, either, because Kung Lao is really quite tolerable. Actually he's more than tolerable, he's—dare I say it?—likable.

* * *

I won't go into much detail about Number Seven. I could write for hours on all the things we did, but I won't.

Her possessed mother sold her to the demon master as a sort of payment. I don't know what the debt was for, or how much, but that's what she was.

Number Seven was twelve and terrified. I do not know all the people who made up Numbers Four through Six. I'm not even sure if Master went in order when he numbered his servants. Most likely, there was some sort of odd system he followed, Nine being demons, Eight being guards, and Number Seven, who was different. He was twisting her, making her less human. Not as much as he changed Number Nines, but about the same as he did Number Eights, except she was female, so she couldn't be a Number Eight.

I had been there a little more than a year already when she arrived, so she clung to me. It was easier than clinging to our other rival, the cannibalistic demon-boy, Number Nine. We basically grew up together.

We were more than friends; we were more like sisters. I didn't remember my sister then and I don't think I treated Number Seven incredibly lovingly. I had been down there only a year, and it had already corrupted me. I was cold, I was sarcastic, and I was rude. I'm not saying I'm any better now. You are really the only person I've been around enough to influence my behavior, and while I do act a little more like a human being, you certainly didn't teach me any social skills.

Over the years I knew her, Number Seven changed a lot. When I was thirteen, three years after she came, she was simply depressed. She was never happy, not even when we tortured Number Nine by using his less-than-genius, instinctive intellect to have him run around for hours on end, chasing nothing, much like a person who pretends to throw a dog's toy, but actually hides it, causing the dog to search for something that isn't missing.

Number Seven had gotten this idea that the demon master was evil—completely true—and that she was going to kill him, which would have been suicide.

"Number Seven, have you lost your mind?" I remember saying. "You can't kill him!"

"Yes I can, and I'm going to tonight. Will you help me?"

"I can't!"

"Don't be a wimp." She crossed her arms and glared at me.

"Number Seven, listen to me," I said, exasperated. "You're going to get yourself killed! Think. How many guards does he have? And how powerful is he?"

"Well...he's not omniscient," she said indignantly.

"He doesn't have to be. Only telepathic enough to know when you're coming and what you plan to do. Do you not agree that he's that powerful? You know he'll find out and kill you before you even try to kill him. Besides, how do you know he's even mortal?"

"Well...umm..."

"Exactly. Come on. Let's go find something to eat." Number Seven's favorite pastime was eating, kind of like you, only not as much.

I grabbed her wrist and led her along.

"Just as long as we stay away from Number Nine," she quipped. "You don't even want to know what he eats."

"It can't be worse than the people he used to."

"I don't know about that, he's pretty gross..."

* * *

Later, just before I went to sleep that night, the demon called me. Obediently, I raced to his dais. Oddly enough, there was another figure standing beside his dragon-shaped pallet. I scrutinized the gray-haired man. He also had a certain power emanating from him, not as much as the demon master, but I could almost hear the souls he imprisoned screaming. A necromancer, I realized.

"Who's this?"

*My most trusted and ingenious lieutenant, Number Two, also known as Shang Tsung.* 'Trusted' doesn't mean much with demons, by the way. They can't trust their peers after a century as much as you trusted me after a week.

I bowed to the odd man.

"I'm honored to meet you, Mileena," he said, in his annoyingly charismatic voice.

"Excuse me?"

"I said, nice meeting you, Mileena."

"Number Three." I wondered if necromantic power had a negative effect on one's sanity.

"Pardon?"

"I am Number Three."

"I like Mileena better."

"If you insist..." I've never understood why he insisted on calling me "Mileena." He still does, and it bothers me, but I've kind of gotten used to it.

*Number Three, there is a problem that needs taking care of.*

"What is it, Master?" I turned my attention away from the sorcerer.

*Number Seven. She wants to kill me.* I swear my heart almost stopped beating. *You should kill her for me.*

"Yes, Master," I managed, trying to control my fear, and come up with something demonic to say. "She's...a little whore, anyway."

"I like this girl," commented Tsung. "Can I have her?"

*No, she's my prodigy.*

"But, I really want her. Maybe we can work something out..."

*Later.* He turned to me. *Tonight, Number Three.* He gestured for me to leave, and turned his attention back to the Shang Tsung.

I slowly plodded away, oblivious to the underworld around me. Number Seven and I didn't always get along, but I could never have justified killing her. I tried to come up with a plan.

As soon as I was out of view of the evil master, I raced to Number Seven's sleeping area, and punched her sleeping figure in the small of her back. She sat up, startled.

"What'd you have to go and plan his murder for?" I whispered fiercely. "Now I have to kill you!"

She scooted away from me, and wrapped her arms around her knees, fearfully. "You're not going to, are you?"

"Of course not. What do you think I am? Now get out of here."

"I have to get my stuff."

"No, just go."

"My knife." She picked it up off her table. She had this thing that when you threw it, spun like a helicopter's blades and returned like a boomerang. It was really kind of cool.

"Go. Now!"

"Okay, I'm gone." She ran toward the ropes that led out of the underworld, and climbed up as fast as she could. I watched her until she reached the top, vaguely wondering where they led.

Then I made up a story of how I broke her neck and cremated her, burning a few small animals that I found to ashes for good measure. Number Nine didn't always eat everything he killed. And he didn't always kill everything he ate.

Silently, I walked to my bed and tried to sleep.

* * *

After Number Seven left, I found myself, once again, alone in the Underworld. I practiced my fighting skills, for I had nothing else to do. A year later, I went on my first mission. I was fourteen.

Some sort of political leader was visiting Wuqiao County, in China. I don't even remember who it was, though I think he was maybe pushing for an anti-Communist movement. Master wanted him dead for some reason I've never known. Anyway, as you probably already knew, Wuqiao is called the capital of Chinese acrobatics. I got myself a job as a waitress for the reception the leader was having, when I found myself staring at one certain display in the middle of the square. A man was standing there, with his six-year-old daughter rolled backwards into a circle, holding her ankles, hanging on his arm.

I saw an image in my mind, like I was watching the television.

A tall thin man was holding up a small, raven-haired girl. She was bent backwards around his, holding her ankles, and forming an almost perfect circle.

The audience applauded, a woman in the first row, wearing only white, her hair in a French braid, and her baby son on her lap, extra hard. The two performed some other simple contortionist tricks, and the girl broke a pine board with a high axe kick.

I saw another scene, presumably one that took place before the previous.

"Papa?" the little girl said, "I want to be like my mother."

"Well," he replied, "she was a great acrobat. And a marvelous martial artist. Do you want to try those things?"

"Yes," said the girl, eager to be like her mother.

I woke from my daydream, at the insistent prompting of another of the waitress girls. She told me to go get a glass of tea for the leader. It was so easy. The tea was isolated from the performance. I swiped one, and slipped my little tube of iocane powder into it. Immediately after serving the cup to the leader, I disappeared. Iocane works rather quickly, and I didn't want to be anywhere near him when he suddenly dropped dead.


	4. Wind and Acrobatics

**Bondage**  
by Nyohah

4  
**Wind and Acrobatics**  
Second Day of Mortal Kombat

* * *

Eleven fighters and one sorcerer gathered in the arena. Shao Kahn sat on his throne. Lieutenant Sonya Blade and Kano were chained on either side of the fighting area. Many outworlders had begun to populate the stadium.

"Winners," said Shang Tsung, "I congratulate you on your victories yesterday. Of course, there were also some losers. Scorpion, Reptile, Kitana, Rayden, and Jax all have one strike against them. Kitana, however, will get to sit out today. Why? Because she's the princess." A ripple of shock went through the Earth's defenders. "And, still talking about Kitana, Kung Lao managed to beat her yesterday. But can he beat her twin? Mileena, Kung Lao, get ready. The rest of you, be prepared. Duel of the Winds!"

The two fighters headed to the arena to prepare for their fight. Mileena swung her right leg up in front of her, then the left, stretching them out. Kung Lao practiced a few punches, then adjusted his hat and adopted his fighting stance, fists making circles on either side of his waist, bending his knees and rocking ever so slightly on the balls of his feet. Mileena pulled one fist behind her head, her forearm perpendicular to the ground while her wrist made a ninety-degree angle from that, and the other guarded her stomach. Her rocking was more pronounced, less bouncy, as she shifted her weight almost completely from one leg to the other.

"FIGHT!" yelled Kahn, his voice reverberating throughout the arena.

At his announcement, Mileena flipped forward and aimed a jumping kick at Kung Lao's forehead. He quickly spun, creating waves of energy that repelled her kick, knocking her back a few feet. She did a quick kippup, and stopped Kung Lao's advance with a swift, high, stepping sidekick. He stumbled back a few feet, dazed, and ducked just in time to miss her sais hurtling through the air toward his shoulders. He teleported to the other side of the arena, behind her, and threw his hat. At that moment, however, he saw that her sais were back in her boots, and realized what that meant. She shared skills with him beyond being a wind elemental. He almost had enough time to block before her heel landed on his forehead, just above the brim of his hat, knocking him to the ground. Almost.

His hat had likewise rematerialized on his head before he got to his feet, only to be knocked back down by a low, backwards sweep. This time, he hit her with a rising uppercut as he stood. She let out a scream of surprise and rage as she landed a few feet away on her back. Kung Lao ran toward her, planning to sweep her before she could stand, as she'd done to him, but she was up too quickly and instead grabbed his waist and leaned way over backward, smashing his head into the ground and easily standing back up.

The world was spinning as Kung Lao stood back up. Mileena was already there, raising her right knee as she pivoted on the ball of her left foot, and snapped out her right foot, forming a bruise on his cheek. She followed through with the rotation and pushed the heel of her left foot into his teeth, causing him to almost choke on one. Then she ducked and imitated his uppercut, sending him flying back a few feet.

Instinct, rather than thought, allowed Kung Lao to perform the jumping front kick that stopped Mileena's second jump kick. She turned her fall into a backward somersault and swung her right leg in a low arc, knocking Lao down just as he began his throw. She jammed her fingers into his throat like a spear rather than let him recover, and as he bent over gasping for air, she hit him just below the neck with an axe kick. Kung Lao dropped like a rock.

Mileena once again pulled out her sais, this time twirling them around twice before crossing them over her head in a victory stance, and the audience roared.

"Mileena wins," announced Kahn.

* * *

Liu Kang and Rayden revived Kung Lao after his fight. Sub-Zero and Baraka were preparing for their fight when he awoke.

"Did you see that, man?" Johnny Cage asked him. "She fell through the floor and just appeared above you like she was in a jump kick!"

"I didn't actually see it," he replied, "but I did know what happened, thank you very much." He pushed Cage out of the way and started to walk back to his room.

"What's wrong with him?" asked Cage. The others looked at him like he was insane.

"Maybe you missed it," said Jax, "but he just got his butt kicked!"

"Kung Lao, stop," said Kitana. She had followed him a few paces into the hallway, a bit away from the others. He turned around and studied her. She was a bit bigger than her twin was, and compassion much more evident in her dark eyes.

"What is it?" he said at last.

"Mileena can make even the most accomplished of fighters look like amateurs. In fact, I have never seen a match where her opponent even looked to be close to her skill. The simple fact that you actually managed to hit her says a lot for your skill. I barely even accomplished that much, last time we fought. A match between her and Liu Kang is not one I would like to bet on."

"Really? She's that good?"

"Didn't you watch her fight Rayden? She's the fastest thing I've ever seen! Quick little darting motions, yet with as much power as anyone could need. The roundhouse, spinning side kick she did to you, it was like a blur. Don't worry about it. You're very good. There's just no competing with her in the terms of speed."

"Are you really the princess of Outworld?"

"No," she said solemnly. "I'm the princess of Edenia. But Shao Kahn murdered my father, took my mother as his queen, and merged Edenia with the other realms he'd already taken. And my mother has since died. I hate Shao Kahn. I'll do anything I can to help you without blowing my cover, as you say on your world."

* * *

Baraka fell to the ground and didn't get up.

"Sub-Zero wins," announced Kahn, as the victor raised his right fist in the air. Blood was running down his upraised arm from a rather severe cut induced by long metallic blades.

Slaves ran into the armory to drag away the mutant's unconscious body as Sub-Zero exited the room, and headed back to the main arena, to get some bandages.

Mileena saw him exit, awake, and had the results of the day's last fight determined, so she returned to her room. Just as she was about to start writing, there was a light knock on the door.

"Mistress Mileena?"

"What is it?" The door opened, and in walked two slave girls, carrying a white dress.

"The Master wants you to try this on. For your wedding."

Mileena sighed. Her wedding was not what she had wanted to be reminded of. The dress fit fine, though she hated how she looked in it, hated the prospect of her husband. She dismissed the girls, depressed, and exited her suite shortly thereafter.

She wandered into the public training room. Kung Lao and Liu Kang were already there, practicing their Shaolin styles, and Sub-Zero was doing what looked like forms. Lao waved and smiled, cheering her up ever so slightly. She found an open area, facing away from the door, and began to practice some contortionism. She started by raising her right leg up to her side, without leaning over. Then she swung it behind, and held her big toe to the back of her head for several seconds. Continuing, she went through this exercise with the other leg, then started to lean over backwards. Halfway down, she looked into the doorway and noticed Jax and Johnny Cage, standing there, a look of disbelief on their faces.

Mileena smiled under her mask and got an idea. She slipped it off, and dropped it to the ground. Then, she continued to bend over backwards, grabbed her ankles, and pushed down further, picking up her mask with her teeth.

She straightened herself back up, and saw Sub-Zero had stopped to watch her. As he saw her face, a look of shock registered on his. Contemplating how odd that was, she spun one hundred and eighty degrees, waving her mask like a flag.

"How is that humanly possible?" asked Jax.

Mileena shook her head, and looked down to the ground, disappointed. "Americans," she sighed. Sub-Zero had walked up beside her, and he whispered something quietly in Mandarin. "Of course!" she replied, smiling.

She hopped up, placing her left hand on Sub-Zero's head, and her right on his upraised left hand. Spreading her legs apart into full splits, she tilted her hips so her legs pointed as a forty-five-degree angle to the ground. When she got her balance, Subby let go, so she was balanced on one hand.

"That's insane," murmured Cage.

"I hear ya," agreed Jax. They left the room, leaving Mileena laughing as she lost her balance and dropped to the ground.

* * *

Mileena lay on her bed, writing about the day's events in her letter. Without any warning, Jade dropped down from a hole that had suddenly appeared in the ceiling.

Mileena jumped up and the two women faced each other, neither daring to move. Jade finally broke the silence.

"I know what you did."

"So what did I do," said Mileena evenly, not wanting to give anything away.

"You betrayed your Master, and if they knew what you did, they would kill you on the spot. I won't turn you in, though, because Kitana wouldn't want that."

"Why should you care what Kitana wants?"

Jade didn't acknowledge her question. "You must promise me one thing, or I will turn you in, no matter what Kitana thinks. You mustn't kill an earth warrior, for all of our sakes. More specifically, you mustn't kill anyone with good intentions."

"Don't kill anyone with good intentions, got it. Who has good intentions?"

"From what I've heard, everyone except for Shao Kahn, Shang Tsung, Baraka, and Reptile."

"Admitting that your masters are evil, isn't that a little risky?"

"I'm being serious Mileena. Shang Tsung is creating a clone of you. It's almost done. And if that isn't enough to convince you of his evilness, she does not have your mouth. She has a mutant's mouth, like Baraka."

"Oh, really," said Mileena, skeptically. "But believe me, I do not need to be convinced of Tsung's wickedness. That, I already knew, I assure you. And just how do you know these things? Do the walls have ears?"

"No, but they do have secret passages." With that, Jade left, fading out of visibility, as she climbed back through the hole in the ceiling.


	5. Machinations of Fate

**Bondage**  
by Nyohah

5  
**Machinations of Fate**  
Letter to Yuan Li

* * *

I fought Kung Lao today. Shang Tsung advertised it as Duel of the Winds. He really was very good. I beat him, but he did get me good a few times. My chin still hurts from that uppercut he gave me. Jax beat Reptile, Subby beat Baraka, though he got a nasty cut on his arm, Scorpion beat Raiden, and Liu Kang made mince meat out of Johnny Cage.

And I did acrobatics today, kind of how we used to play around. It really cheered me up, and I needed it.

* * *

Now we get to the fun part.

The demon called me to him, one day, seven years later.

*China cannot be without an Emperor,* he said.

"What do you mean, Master?"

*We will be making an Emperor for China,* he explained. *Your job is to capture the little princes, straight out of the womb, and we will raise them, and choose one who will fulfill his destiny.*

"How will I know which babies to take, Master?"

*From their birth dates, they will all be destined to be Emperors.*

"When do I start, Master?"

*Not so eager, Number Three. You cannot simply walk in and take the babies. There is a scientist, making something you need. You will be on good enough terms with him that you can use it, when the time comes.*

* * *

I walked down the streets of Hong Kong amazed. It was the first I'd been above, in the city, during the day the entire time I'd lived in the underworld, and I had little memory of my life before that. I was amazed by the modern technological world of Hong Kong. Gawking at everything around me, I hadn't even remembered what I was there to do for at least an hour. I had just decided to look for the scientist when a meter-tall metal box caught my attention. Under a clear window, there was a stack of printed papers. The top one said, _Terrorist attack on school leaves four students dead._

Intrigued, I tried to open the box and take out the paper. It wouldn't budge. I looked around and saw a thin hole near the top, and near that, an inscribed _20_. It was then that I heard the voice.

"Do you need some money?" A young man stood by the box. I just looked at him, confused. He was rather cute, in an adorable, little kid way. "Here." He put a coin in the slot, then opening the door, took out a sheet of paper. "Your newspaper," he said.

"...Thank you," I replied, taking the newspaper. The man continued on his way, without a second glance. I took the newspaper back to the underworld with me, and tried not to wonder about the person who'd helped me. I needed to know more about the overworld, and I learned plenty from the paper.

* * *

The next day, I tried to find the scientist again.

"Excuse me, sir, do you know where this is?" I asked a man, pointing to the address. He gave some lengthy directions, and I soon got lost, having to ask again—several times, actually.

When I finally arrived at the address, I saw a rather small building. It looked like a warehouse. Hesitantly, I knocked. Nobody answered, so I tried the door. It was unlocked and I walked in.

The house was sparsely decorated, but it was all very nice. I wandered around, ignoring the fact I wasn't invited, until I reached an unused spare bedroom. Its door opened into a quite unusual room. Big panes of glass covered one wall; there was a heavy-duty door on the same side, and a huge fan on the opposite wall. The windows revealed a rather large lab. A huge machine took up most of the space. Also in the room was a computer. I saw a figure sitting by it, so I opened the heavy door and walked in.

I walked over the computer to talk to the scientist, but as I approached I realized he had fallen asleep with his face pressed against the keyboard, causing a jumble of letters to fill the screen.

"There's a bed in that room that looks very comfortable. Why don't you use it?"

That woke him up, and he looked tiredly up at me. I almost laughed at the lines in his cheek from the keyboard, until I realized who he was. He looked startled to see me, too.

"Are you in desperate need of another paper or something?" he asked, not as sarcastically as he might have. I was trying to think of a good retort when I realized I had no idea what to tell him. Certainly not the truth. _My demon master has sent me because you are inventing something I need so I can steal babies._ That would have made a real great impression. Luckily he gave me an opportunity.

"You're obviously new in town, so I'll give you a list of good hotels and apartments if you'd like."

"I don't have any money." It wasn't a lie.

"Oh, well I can't help you there."

"But you can give me a place to stay, can't you? That room right there would be fine. You're obviously not using it."

"How long were you in here?"

I was getting rather nervous. "It was unlocked, and you didn't answer when I knocked..."

"What do you have to move?"

"Not much, actually. Some clothes." I was quite flustered by the entire experience. Merely the fact that he would not take his eyes off me made me lose all my composure. In the underworld, beauty had never gotten me anywhere. Shang Tsung had obviously noticed it, but back then I thought he wanted me for my fighting skills.

"Nothing you say? No rings containing the secret of invisibility? So you won't be much help to me, then. Nothing to tell me that will help me reach my goal." He folded a piece of paper that was lying in front of him. "I'm really starting to wonder if it's possible at all. They all say it isn't. I should have listened. But I'm so very close. Only a few more rearrangements, more adjustments...more dead-ends." He looked back down at his computer, depressed. "When you think about it, there's really not that much to conceal. Matter is made mostly of air, anyway." He looked again and seeing my vacant stare, and mistook it for confusion. Actually it was all making sense to me. Not what he was saying, but the situation. He was trying to create something that could turn things invisible. People, maybe. For some reason the Master thought he was almost certain to figure it out. If I was invisible, think how easy it would be to take the babies. Or kill someone. It was an almost non-existent power, invisibility. So few possessed it, and certainly not me. I am rather jealous of Jade's natural ability.

"Matter is made mostly of air, with such great empty space in atoms, even in solids. If you could find a way to move the atoms of that wall over there even closer together, you could simply walk through it. Understand?"

"Kind of."

"Oh, and back to the topic, if you really want you can stay in there. Not very nice, but I can find some things for you."

"You're so kind."

"Yeah, well, if I lived in Japan, I'd have to be immensely rich to have even as much room as is in this lab to myself. Amazing I have it here in Hong Kong. Might as well share it if I have it, eh?" He tossed the paper he'd been folding at me. It was a star.

"Thanks ever so much." He just shrugged, and as I walked out to retrieve my things, I noticed writing on one of the points. I tried to decipher the numbers, but they meant absolutely nothing to me.

* * *

Of course, you were the young man/scientist. You were undoubtedly the best thing that has ever happened to me. You're also one of the strangest people I've ever met. Your personality clashes with itself. If you ever had to see a person again, it was hard to get you to say anything to them, yet if someone told you something could not be done, proving that person wrong almost became an obsession. I've never met anyone else who is shy and competitive in my life. Also, there was the way you could act out anything with unbridled enthusiasm, and still, the next minute not say a word to people you knew well.

And it wasn't just that. When you were bored, you'd come up with hilariously silly things; any pleasant conversation started was liable to take an insane curve, as anything might make you think of something completely different.

Of course you know all these things. But I want to remember them, and I think anyone would like to remember the good times, so I'm writing it. You'll never get this letter anyway.

Some people thought you were crazy. So did I, for a while, until I figure out that you were just so bright that normal things bored you, and you notice the strangest things. For example, "Ching, do you think that before the turn of the last millennium people prophesized that the world was going to end, and do you think the same thing will happened a thousand years from now?" Or "Have you ever wondered why anyone would ever want to live in Japan, what with the earthquakes, pollution, over-population, radioactivity from the atomic bombs dropped on them, and typhoons?" "Chickens run around with their heads cut off for several minutes. I don't like pork, I'm not fond of beef, but chicken is perfect. And it's probably the dumbest animal so it's okay that we eat it. Running around with its head cut off proves the fact that it doesn't use its brain much. It probably dies by bleeding to death rather than the fact that it was decapitated." Or "Why do people climb Mount Everest? Do they have a death wish? You climb up until 2:00, and then you have to come back down. One guy stayed until 2:30. He died." And there were many more that I can't think of, now.

Oh, yes. There were the confessions that made me crack up, mostly because of the serious way you said them, when nobody would care or think they were a crime, as you always approached them. Ironically most had to do with geography. "I know all the capitals of the United States, and I don't even live there." "I was thirteen before I realized that Great Britain was an island. I was eight before I realized that England and Great Britain were the same thing."

About a week after I moved in, I was dying of boredom so I asked you if you had anything to do.

"Sure," you said. "There's lots of things to do. Wash the dishes, laundry, mop the floor, pay the bills..."

"No, I meant some kind of game."

"Oh, well, in that case, have you ever played chess?"

"Chess?"

"Apparently not." You walked to a closet and pulled out a box and a board. You sat the board on the table and began to unpack pieces from the box, small figures in two different colors. You placed them carefully on the board. Red on my side, and blue on yours. Pointing to a light-blue strip down the middle of the lined board, you said, "This is the river. Some pieces can cross it, but others can't. They move along the intersections of the lines." You pointed to the piece in the middle of the back row. "This is the Emperor. He can't leave the Imperial Palace, which is this square with the _x_ through it here. He can't directly face the other Emperor without any pieces in between. He moves one step forward, backward, left, or right." You pointed to the identical pieces on either side of the Emperor. "These are the Counselors. They can't leave the Imperial Palace. They move one step diagonally." You went on to explain the rest of the pieces, from Pawns that can move left or right additionally to forward after they'd crossed the river, to Cannons that have to jump over a piece to capture another. We played every day, until finally, one day, I placed my Rook on the middle point, on the edge of the river.

"Check." I tossed my hair and grinned arrogantly. You moved your Counselor between the pieces, so I swung my remaining Cannon between my Rook and your Counselor. "Check." You escaped again, but I had my plan ready in my mind. Knight up into the battle, pawn left, rook right...

You swept your Cannon down the entire length of the board. "Checkmate," you said, quietly as usual. I began to move my Emperor to another space. "You can't do that," you said. "See my Pawn? It's Checkmate."

"No, it's not."

"So show me what you can do, then."

I looked at the board. _Can't move there, not there, can't move the Counselor to block it._ My mouth hung open. I hadn't even realized you had any sort of plan. I picked up your winning piece. "Here's what I think of your checkmate!" I flung it at your head. You caught it lovingly, as I threw a handful of other pieces at him. You grabbed a blanket, and swung it out, spun it a few times, and before I knew it, five porcelain chess pieces were wrapped in a blanket, safe from harm, and none had landed on the floor.

"Be careful, Ching, these are breakable."

I just stood there in shock. It was like some sort of Jackie Chan movie. "I never knew you were that talented."

"You never knew I was the chess champion at my university, either."

"Are you some kind of martial artist?"

"I've done Wushu all my life."

"Really? Do you know any acrobatics?"

"A little."

"Maybe we can do something sometime."

"Maybe. I'm tired, I think I'll go to bed now." And just like that, the conversation was over.

We continued to play chess, and when I lost my temper from then on, I threw the board, not the pieces.

* * *

I'm still not sure what happened between us. We were friends; we lived together, but in different rooms, and while we had a lot of fun, nothing more happened.

But something happened, and you claimed to love me. I didn't understand. They always say you never know what you have until it's gone. I wish that wasn't true. I wasn't good enough to you. I'm sorry.

Not long after that, the invisible robe started to work, as long as there wasn't any ultraviolet light shown on it—in other words, the sun wasn't up. You trusted me with your secret, and I stole it to do something terrible. I stole babies.


	6. Machinations of the Fallible

**Bondage**  
by Nyohah

6  
**Machinations of the Fallible**  
Third Day of Mortal Kombat

* * *

"Reptile has two strikes against him, and Scorpion, Jax, Kitana, Raiden, Kung Lao, Baraka, and Johnny Cage have all been defeated once. Kung Lao will not have to fight today, however. Congratulations to the undefeated—Liu Kang, Sub-Zero, and Mileena. Our first fight, in the arena, is Baraka versus Johnny Cage."

Johnny Cage removed his sunglasses, and strode into the arena. Baraka followed, panting from excitement.

After the announcement of the fight's beginning, Baraka started off with by rubbing his arm-blades together to create a spark. Cage flipped over it and landed a jumping kick on Baraka's face. _Not that any kind of beating could make him look worse,_ thought Mileena, beginning to lose interest in the fight as she thought of what she would have to write next in her letter.

Baraka swung a hook at Cage's face, but he did the splits, ducking underneath it. At the same time he lashed out with a powerful punch to Baraka's groin. Baraka bent over double. The men in the audience cringed. Mileena turned to look at Kitana sitting next to her and saw that she too was laughing.

Cage uppercutted Baraka's bent form. It was beginning to look as if Cage would win the fight, and she saw Kung Lao start to beckon for Jax to hand over a bet. Baraka was enraged, it was quite obvious. He blocked Cage's jab, and lashed out with what seemed to be a lung punch with both hands, but something changed at the last minute, because Cage did not react as someone who had been punched in the stomach. His body flinched, and a drop of blood ran out from between his lips. Everyone gasped at the appearance of Baraka's arm-blades sticking out from Cage's back. With a look of utter contentment, Baraka lifted his arms up with enough force to crack through several of Cage's ribs as they tried to stop the blades.

Finally, a rib held and Cage was lifted off his feet. He gasped, trying to breathe through torn lungs without the success. Shang Tsung stood up, quivering with rage.

"I said _no killing_!" he screamed. "Until they've been defeated _three times_! That was only twice!"

"What you mad about?" grated Baraka, the first time even Mileena had heard him speak. "Master Kahn just bring him back."

"Yeah," said Jax, hopefully. "Shao Kahn'll bring him back."

Kahn, seated on his throne, looked at the eager faces of the Earth's defenders, and of Sonya, as she had been roused from her self-imposed trance, and was screaming obscenities at the mutant. "No."

"No?" screamed Shang Tsung. "But he wasn't supposed to die yet!"

Kahn ignored him and shouted, "Baraka wins! Fatality."

* * *

After the day's fights were up, Shang Tsung summoned Mileena.

"Master Kahn would like to see you," he said.

"Now?"

"No, in about thirty minutes. First there's something I would like to show you." He led her through the palace to a hall she had never entered before. "This is where we keep the valuables of those we've defeated. Most importantly, the Mandalorian paintings."

He brought her to a picture of a stern-looking man in an altered ninja outfit. "This was our first Mandalorian ally ever. Emperor Yuen. He was Number Three before you."

"What happened to him?"

"He died."

Mileena rolled her eyes.

"But this," he said, stopping in front of a picture of a young, beautiful woman, "is what I wanted to show you. The last Mandalorian queen, Yuen Ming."

There were several paintings of the woman. In one she looked very sad: her hair was down, her head was drooping, all that showed she was royalty was the silver circlet she wore. "That one was painted on the trip from the war back to Mandalore."

In another of the paintings she was wearing what appeared to be fighting garb: black pants, a green tank top, her hair in a braid, and she brandished what appeared to be a glowing bo. "See, she was a fighter, also, which is what made her so dangerous. And these, of course, depict her in her various queenly dresses, her face painted, her hair done very elaborately, her dresses unique, original artworks, made only once, and only worn by her.

"All the power that this woman had, I'm offering to you. Do you understand how lucky you are now?"

"Yes."

* * *

Mileena knelt in front of Shao Kahn, listening.

"I brought you here, Mileena, because I am suspicious of Kitana?"

"Kitana? She hasn't a treacherous bone in her body."

"But she does, Mileena. We saw her speaking alone with an earth warrior. We fear she may have discovered the secret of her true identity."

"What would that be, Master?"

"That she is not my daughter. That instead I killed her father when she was still a baby."

"I understand, Master."

"Watch her, Mileena, make sure she does not betray us. We know that you are faster, stronger, and stealthier than she."

* * *

Shang Tsung stayed after Mileena had left. "Why didn't you resurrect Johnny Cage? We can't use him! He wasn't defeated three times."

"You're right. We cannot use him for our first purpose, but we can for the other. Have you forgotten our Master who gave us our power? Our Master who gave you your gift? Our Master who reports to only Beelzebub himself? Satan does not require the rules to be followed for the resurrection of his right-hand man. He is already evil. Any blood from a good-meaning person will suffice for him, whether it was captured by the rules or not." Shao Kahn paused. "We shall start tomorrow. And we will get other blood during this tournament. Blood that we can use for our main goal."

* * *

Kitana found the answer at the back of the secret archives.

She had gone back up, after absorbing even the most boring historical parts of the book she had taken, and still wishing for more information about the planet she ruled by birthright.

She almost missed it. The room was huge, longer than the stretches they used to race sewer rats. Each Outworld rat was four times as large and far more bloodthirsty as the rats one would find on Earth, and the sport was a favorite due to the Outworlders' violent natures, and the fact that one rat a race, at least, was torn apart by the others.

Even though each pile was small, the room still continued for what seemed forever, each pile proclaiming the bitter, or glorious, depending what side one was on, defeat of a civilization. Kitana almost started on the Narrative of Mandalore, wondering why the defeat of this one seemed to be considered such a victory. It had twice as much memorabilia as the others. Then, she decided to see how long the room was, to try to decipher how many galaxies Shao Kahn, the wretched beast of a creature, had taken over.

It was sitting at the very end. The High Master, he who was above even Shao Kahn, had helped Shang Tsung write the rules for the original Mortal Kombat Tournament, and after many generations, they were nearly flawless. However, for some reason Kitana could not fathom, Shao Kahn had decided they did not apply to this new tournament, as it had an alternate purpose that she could only guess at. These new rules had to have holes, had to be flawed, didn't they?

* * *

Jade sat in the Living Forest, oddly her favorite spot, sharpening her fans. Kitana's were self-sharpening, truly unique pieces of art. The blades, made of a white metal that had been found only on Edenia and that was as strong as the titanium-steel alloy praised on Earth, were put together so that they appeared to be paper, up until the very moment they cut into your skin.

Jade's were poor imitations, really, easily dulled, made of reddish-brown metal that was not nearly as strong. She had many more fans, as she had no telekinetic skills to bring her thrown fans back and had to rely on the fact she could hide them and their holders from view, making it seem they magically appeared to the ignorant. She cursed as the blade on her fan broke, yet again, and she would have to find a replacement. She was just getting up to leave when she heard a familiar voice.

"Jade? Are you here?" It was Kitana. She soon appeared from around the corner on Jade's secret path, seen only by those she wished to see it. She was holding a scroll in her left hand. The tension washed off her face as she saw the green ninja woman. "Jade," she said, her relief evident in her voice as well. "I need your help." She held up the scroll. "I need you to give this to an Earth warrior."

"Why?" Jade crossed her arms and tried to look uncooperative. She knew she had to do it; she had learned long ago that just as she could not disobey Shang Tsung, she could also not disobey Kitana, but she didn't need Kitana to know that. Jade didn't think she was the kind who would take advantage of that sort of thing, but one never knew.

"I read the book. I need to get my revenge on Kahn, and I'm going to help the earth warriors, but you mustn't tell anyone. If you value my friendship at all, and respect my wishes, even if you do not help me in this quest, please don't betray me."

Jade was shocked. Friendship? A friend? Not colleague, not partner, not servant. Friend?

"I would never betray you, Kitana. And I will help you, by all means." Jade held out her hand to take the scroll. Kitana slowly reached over and placed in her outstretched palm. Jade closed her fist around it. "I will accomplish this task, Princess. I promise."


	7. The Invisible Thing

**Bondage**  
by Nyohah

7  
**The Invisible Thing**  
Letter to Yuan Li

* * *

Reptile was kicked out of the tournament today. He lost three times in a row. And I thought he was supposed to be improved from the last tournament. So he must have really stunk then. Raiden beat him, not surprisingly.

Sub-Zero beat Jax rather easily, Liu Kang had some difficulty defeating Scorpion, and I beat Kitana fairly soundly. Tell me, what is it with men and what they call 'cat fights'?

Much more happened today, though. Number one: Baraka killed Johnny Cage, even though he'd only been defeated twice, and Shao Kahn didn't bring him back.

Number two: Shang Tsung took me on a tour through a gallery of Mandalorian paintings. The Queen was very beautiful. She kind of looked like you. Okay, so I miss you so much I could probably find some reason for an elephant to remind me of you, but honestly, she had the same cheekbones and eyes you do. Only her eyes were green, and yours are very light indigo.

Number three: Shao Kahn told _me_ to watch _Kitana_. I would have thought it would be the other way around. I guess she found out that Kahn should be her enemy. They still haven't found out what I did, I guess. They shouldn't trust me. I hate them with all my soul.

* * *

I donned the invisible robe one night, after you had crashed, and walked down to the Police Department. By this time, I'd already mastered the art of walking and not alerting anyone to my presence. None of the people in the meeting noticed when I opened the door of the conference room.

"...Have been notified by the kidnappers for ransom," Inspector Lau, probably the most competent policeman on the force, was saying.

"Nor has any political or terrorist group claimed responsibility," added the commander, waving about his cigar. It was his son that I was targeting this time.

"Commander, this case is so bizarre. Do you think we should contact Wonder Woman?" asked the man sitting to the commander's left. What should I say about Wonder Woman? She wore a silver mask and a cloak over her short black dress, and fought with darts and a long, flexible blade. She'd almost foiled me the time before. She was getting too close. But this time, I had a plan to distract her.

As the man was speaking I reached between two others, and tightened my right fist around a Coca-Cola can. One policeman noticed this and his eyes grew wide with fear.

"Although Wonder Woman has helped us in the past," replied the commander. "We still have no clue to her identity."

"We have no way of contacting her, even if we wanted to," added Lau. I moved on with my task, writing on a blank piece of paper, right in front of the commander. _Your son will be next._

"Based on the fact that all the missing babies are boys," continued Lau, oblivious to the strange happenings in the meeting room, "I believe the kidnappers are not asking for ransom."

"H-h-hey," murmured the commander, trying to get Lau's attention.

"It may have to do with some religious cult." Lau tapped his pointer on his fist, as I spun around and kicked the chalkboard, shattering it into pieces. Lau stumbled away, and the others turned their heads.

The door betrayed me the second time I used it, letting out a loud creak. I slammed it shut and ran behind the door, further into the hallway, waiting for the squad that would almost certainly come for me to leave. All but the one who noticed the Coke can and the commander ran out the door, and into the other room opposite of where I was.

"Did you see anyone rushing out from the conference room?" Lau asked an officer who had been standing in the room.

"No," he answered, confused. The group ran back into the conference room, and I crept out.

* * *

I managed to beat the police to the hospital, and hid in the hallway in front of the nursery before the guards were posted, waiting for my opportunity to enter. Finally, a nurse, in her white dress and nun-like headdress opened the door and I slipped through. Luck was with me; she only checked on one baby, and then left, closing the door, and sitting outside. I was about to start with my plan when I heard someone approaching. The nurse stood up.

"Sorry, Mrs. Commander, Officer Lau's orders: no one may enter the nursery without his permission."

Mrs. Commander? This was too perfect.

"Never mind," she said. I waited until her face showed through the porthole, then started. I grabbed two babies, first the target, and then a random girl. Mrs. Commander screamed, alerting the guards, who looked in and saw babies flying in midair for no apparent reason.

I carried the babies to the window and shattered the glass. The nursery was several stories up, but I'd found that I could construct things out of the same material as the robe, and as long as they were in contact with something under the influence of the robe, they too would be invisible. I put the babies in slings attached to roof by several feet of rope, and pushed them out the window. The police immediately ran downstairs, all except the commander, who entered the nursery. That meant I had to be fast.

I pushed myself out the window headfirst (it was a small window), and sat on the edge, clipped the third rope I had attached to the roof to my side. Then I dove backwards, to cut down my wind resistance so that I could keep the babies from slamming against the side of the building when their rope ran out. This was the only part of my plan I was concerned about, though I needn't have worried. Who should show up, running along the _power lines_ for heaven's sake, setting off explosions all the way, but Wonder Woman.

She threw two of her little darts and caught both of the babies, severing the rope to the girl and causing her sling to fall off. The 'sunglasses' I was wearing allowed me to see all the things affected by the robe.

She stopped on another wire and crossed her left arm in front of her chest, but I didn't have time to care about her. My rope reached the end, and I slammed against the side of the building, dampening the impact with bent knees. I began to walk, literally on the wall, as I was hanging sideways, toward the babies. Unfortunately, I had stepped in something and I left footprints on the side of the building. Wonder Woman tracked me and threw a third dart. It tore through my Achilles tendon, causing me great pain, but I'd gotten used to pain by then. I continued on my way, leaving the blood covered dart in the wall.

I finally reached the babies, and tearing the girl loose from the dart, I let her fall down, toward the ground. I had no choice, and essentially, she was only my distraction for Wonder Woman.

I pulled the boy off the wall, likewise, but held onto him, and fastened his sling directly to my belt, just in case. Wonder Woman threw yet another dart, this one attached to the rope, and it wound around the baby girl, just as I started my run up the side of the building. I built up enough speed that I managed to get far enough up to jump, using the force of wind to help me, onto the lower roof of the section next to the nursery.

I had just started down the ladder to the ground, where my car was waiting, when Wonder Woman somehow appeared over the ledge. I never knew just how she managed that.

* * *

I drove through the country, as always, because cars without drivers are sure to attract attention that I really didn't need. The sun was just beginning to come over the hills, and I faded back into existence as its warming rays touched me. I pushed my sunglasses up onto my silver reflective headband, which matched the robe, no longer needing them to see beyond the robe's protective veil. Blood from my foot dripped onto the floor, causing a mess I would need to clean up before you noticed it.

Now that I was visible again, I looked like a normal person, wearing odd clothes (a black bodysuit with black gloves, a silver robe, and silver boots, kneepads, and leotard type thing. I drove the car back into the main city of Hong Kong, and parked it in an area only about a mile away from the hospital. I took the baby and kicked off the manhole cover that concealed the entrance to the underworld.

I slid down the ropes, and began to head toward Master's dais. Number Nine jumped down from his position on a pillar, where he'd been guarding the entrance. I spun around and kicked him twice. A fight broke out between us. He never hit me, even though I only had one arm to block with, a baby in the other. In the end I jumped toward him and snapped out the chain I used as a weapon. Number Nine wrapped his fist around it, and when I pulled it back, his little finger fell off.

"That's cost you a finger," I said. "Next time I'll have your head. Now guard the entrance!" I'm not exactly sure what he did with his finger, but if I only had one guess, I'd say he ate it.

I ran to the Master's dais and handed the baby to one of his four Number Eights, guards. "Master," he said. "I brought back the baby you wanted."

Master turned his head, and slowly stood up. He raised the baby high over his head, as if offering it to some sort of god. "Go ahead and take our nineteenth prince inside to rest with his royal brothers."

"Yes, Master," said Number Eight, bowing his head.

"Number Three," said the demon, as he lay back down. "Your heart is beating too fast."

"No, it isn't," I replied. I could not admit the reasons for my feelings. The most obvious was my fight with Number Nine. Next, I was worried about the baby girl. Wonder Woman had undoubtedly saved her, but she could have been seriously injured. I wasn't sure why I was starting to care, but I had a suspicion it had to do with you, or the third thing. I had started to have frequent visions of the raven-haired girl, and they were starting to disturb me.

"You do not need memory," he said, as if reading into my thoughts, "and you should be clear of emotions or feelings."

"I have none, Master," I lied forcing myself to calm down.

"On the next lucky day," the eunuch continued, "I will choose among the princes and one will be the emperor. China cannot be without an emperor."

"China cannot be without an emperor," repeated the remaining Number Eights.

"China cannot be without an emperor," I said.

Let me tell you a bit about this emperor he was going to make. Above all, the Master wanted to take over earth. It was one of the two planets left in our galaxy he didn't have, and if he had earth, he knew he could get the other. His approach to getting earth was quite a bit different than Shang Tsung's tournament. He was going to take over China, using an emperor to rule. But he could not be emperor himself, and none of his servants could be emperor, so he had to raise one differently. Number Eights were raised on the principles of bodyguard servants. Number Nines (of which there was only one at the time, thank God) were raised on human flesh, creating killing monsters. So he was going to raise a Chinese human boy, one destined to be emperor for good measure, and make him his puppet through which he could control China. Once he had China, he needed an army. That's where I came in again. Not only was the robe allowing me to steal the princes needed to find an emperor, but just imagine an entire army of Number Nines, all oblivious to pain, and invisible. Not a happy thought, huh?

* * *

A little girl with raven hair in a black jumpsuit and a red jacket struggled up a rope. Another girl, who was standing at the top of the cliff and wearing a white jacket looked down at her.

"You can climb up on your own," said the man standing by her. "Or you can fall. No one can help you."

"Climb! Ching, Climb up!" yelled the girl at the top of the cliff, looking distraught. The girl climbing struggled up, then slipped down a few feet. The girl at the top yelled, "Don't fall! Climb!" and knelt at the edge of the cliff, stretching out her hand.

The girl climbed up a couple more feet, then stretched out her hand, and the girls grabbed each other's wrists. Then the girl in red's feet slipped, and they both slid down a foot, trying desperately to hold on to each other.

They both wailed as their hands slipped apart and the girl in red slid away.

Suddenly, the view changed to first person, and I watched the cliffs tumble by.

* * *

I sat up quickly, biting back a scream and shivering, my sheets soaked with sweat. This nightmare had been reoccurring almost every night, for three months. I'd had many other dreams before, all starring the raven-haired girl named Ching. In fact, that's how I decided what I should tell you my name was.

I crawled out of my bed and wandered into the room overlooking the lab. I noticed the plant you had sitting on a stack of textbooks had died. You were by the computer, typing away, then stopping to examine a printout, then returning to the typing. I walked to the right until the light sensed me and turned on. That light used to freak me out so much, you know. Me still getting used to a technologically advanced world, without motion sensors.

"Nightmare again?" you asked, not even needing to look up to sense I was there.

"May I come in?"

"My machines are on," you answered, as if that explained everything. "You know I don't like distractions," you added, to try to make it seem more logical. "I'm sorry. I had a dream last night. I guess it was a nightmare. I dreamt the invisible robe was stolen. Has it always been kept in the safe?"

"Yes, why?" I silently cursed myself for taking the robe that night, even though you were asleep at the computer again, not twenty feet away.

"The police called this morning. They asked me how a man can be invisible. I thought my work was safe here."

"Everyone knows you're a genius," I said. "That's no secret."

"Some genius. I wish it was a secret," you said, as if your intelligence had caused you some sort of pain in the past. "Talking with the police today, I realized I'd invented something that could be a weapon in itself." You were so naïve. You always were.

"Why continue? Try something else."

"Because no one else can do it, Ching. I don't expect you to understand that." I didn't.

"Aren't you afraid I'll take it from you?" I asked, honestly wanting to know the answer.

"Of course not," you smiled. "No one would steal from himself." I tried to get some comfort from the fact that you considered the robe mine as well, and that I had every right to use it. I didn't succeed.

"Do you love me?" I asked spontaneously.

"More than ever."

* * *

A few days later I was walking down the street toward the library to return some books for you. I noticed my path had brought me by the same newspaper box we had first met by. Smiling I stopped to look at it as I walked by, but the headline I saw tore my smile away. I stepped back and bought a paper. _Anonymous person informs the press that the nineteenth baby will disappear tonight._

I had done no such thing. And the nineteenth baby had already been taken. I changed my direction and headed to the hospital instead.

I walked in the door and started to wander when a nurse called to me.

"Miss? Do you need help?" I nodded, as nothing seemed to be happening yet, and as the reception desk was not far from where Inspector Lau was standing, talking with the other police, and waving around the same newspaper I had bought.

"May I ask your name?"

I thought quickly. "Li Ching." I looked back toward Lau, and saw his wife walking up, wearing a short, low-cut gold dress, and I briefly wondered if she was aware that her bra was showing above where the dress started.

They met right by the desk, and landed a small peck on each other's lips.

"What are you doing here tonight?" asked the inspector, not sounding pleased at all.

"I volunteer at the hospital three times a week, remember?" answered Mrs. Lau. "Besides the elderly lady upstairs..."

"Won't do her physical therapy unless you're there, right?" finished Lau.

"Exactly."

"I'm afraid I can't take care of you. Be careful."

"You too," said Mrs. Lau, and her husband walked away, more important things on his mind. She started to strut away, past me, but she noticed I was watching her, and stopped smiling. I met her gaze, and she looked a little disturbed.

"Miss Li?" I looked back at the nurse. "Do you have health insurance?"

"No," I said.

"Where do you live?" she said, but her question was lost as I saw a man in a workers' uniform walk past, pushing a cart. He had huge bags under his eyes, and I got a funny feeling in the pit of my stomach.

"Will you excuse me for a moment? Which way is the restroom?" She pointed straight back, a parallel hall to where the man was going. I walked down the hall, and ended up, just barely ahead of him, at an intersection between the hall that connected the two. He turned the corner. I leaned against the corner.

"You're the one who called the newspaper."

"You're a cop?" He looked slightly panicked. I just raised my head an inch. "Let me tell you, I'm going to kill all the babies tonight." He reached under a towel on his cart and pulled out a rather dull knife. I picked a glass syringe off the cart next to me, and pressed the top end against the table until it broke, leaving a sharp, jagged edge.

Mrs. Lau suddenly appeared around the corner farther down. She slipped the top half off of an empty portable IV holder, brandishing it as a club.

"Hey," she yelled, "what are you doing?" I put down the syringe, not wanting to look suspicious. Why did she have to interfere?

The man kicked his cart into my stomach.

"Don't!" I yelled, as he spun me around and pressed his dull knife up against my jugular. Sure, I could have taken him out, but I would have ended up bleeding all over the ground until I died.

"Don't come near me, or I'll kill her," he warned.

"Take it easy," commanded Mrs. Lau, still holding her club.

"Drop it or I'll kill her," he repeated, moving toward her.

"Drop yours first."

He turned the knife over, and I felt a slight pain just to the right of my vein.

"Okay," she said, holding the club out at arm's length, "I'll drop it." She did.

"Get inside," he said, pointing to a door. "Get inside!"

She obeyed, and he shoved me in. I turned around, and we both backed away from the psycho. He pointed his knife toward us. "They killed my boy. I want all the other babies to die with him." He slammed the door shut, and locked it. "I'm going to kill all the babies!" he yelled from outside.

Mrs. Lau turned and looked at me, then gasped. "You're bleeding!" She fumbled for a tissue, then reached toward my neck.

I slapped her hand away, and back up, reaching to my neck. Sure enough, I felt liquid there. I wiped it away. "I'm fine."

"You think we can break the door open?" she asked hopefully.

It was two-inch thick stainless steel. "There's no way," I said. "The door's too solid."

"Let me try," she said, almost pouting. She rammed her weight against the door twice. It didn't move a millimeter. I crossed my arms and leaned back against some crates, as she rammed it a third time. This time I heard a jingling sound. She dropped to the ground, and looked under the door. I leaned forward, a little intrigued.

She looked up smiling. "The keys are just outside!" She reached her hand under the door, stretching, but just her fingers made it through. "Missed by just a little bit," she grunted, pushing against the door as if that would help.

"You don't have to be excited," I said. "The lunatic won't be back for a while."

She pulled her hand back out, and shook it, then pushed it back under again. "I'm only worried about the babies. Didn't you hear what he just said?"

I stepped forward and tapped her on the shoulder. "Let me try." If she wanted to save the babies so much, let her save the babies. She wasn't hurting me. I knelt down, and pushed my hand under the door. When I felt it catch against my knuckles, I forced it forward even more, getting past the thick part of my hand to my flat wrists, allowing me to grab the keys with room to spare. I pulled my hand back out, and unlocked the door. I noticed Mrs. Lau was looking at me with a look of horrified disgust. I had scraped the flesh off my hand all the way down to the four bones on the upper section. I walked back to a box of gauze, wrapping my injured hand. I glanced back and saw her still standing there.

"It's all right. I can handle the pain, really." I didn't know why I felt that I had to reassure this woman. She turned around and left, but paused just after the door.

"I'd hurry if I were you," I said, not even having to look to know she had stopped. She hurried away after I made my comment.

* * *

As I was leaving, another commotion started. Someone stole a baby and left on a motorcycle. I got a message from the Master telepathically. I sighed, knowing I would have to go take care of this person before he started taking credit for my work. I raced home. You weren't there, and I grabbed the invisible robe out of its hiding spot, and changed into my correlating outfit.

I tracked the motorcycle into an old abandoned warehouse, and walked in just in time to see Wonder Woman deflect a spinning knife back toward the person who threw it. I wouldn't have known who the other woman was, if I hadn't vaguely recognized her the first time I saw her, and spent hours trying to figure out who it was. She called herself Thief Catcher, now, and was a bounty hunter, but it was her blade that proved I was correct in my previous guess. She was Number Seven.

Her own blade spun back to her, and caught her in the tail of the long jacket she wore, pinning her against a pillar. She tried to pull it out, but it was in solid, and she only had a second because Wonder Woman came at her with her long, thin, flexible blade. "Wait, wait!" she yelled.

Wonder Woman slashed with her blade, and about an inch closer, and she would have been slicing Number Seven into long thin ribbons, but she was too far, by design. Number Seven dodged instinctively, and I ran forward, leaping over a staircase, and landed just in front of Wonder Woman.

I kicked her four times, and she stumbled backwards away from Number Seven, who commented, "Uh, what's she doing?" to no one.

Wonder Woman spun her blade around, and would have sufficiently sliced up anything in her reach, but I wasn't there anymore. "The Invisible Thing?" she asked, and I uppercutted her in response. She actually spun in the air a few times before she landed on her back. In my mind I gave her a ten, something I picked up from you, no doubt.

"There's one more here?" asked Number Seven, still attached to the pole.

Wonder Woman must have heard the axe kick I had aimed to break her neck, and she rolled out of the way. She ended up right behind a bucket of old water with incense sticks in it, and thinking quickly he kicked, spraying water all over my body. She tracked me using the water droplets that flew off of me when I moved.

She snap kicked me in the chin, and my head flew back, knocking off the glasses that allowed me to see outside the robe's concealment. I can fight blind, don't misjudge me, but not against someone who is nearly as good as I am, or maybe even as good as I am.

I blocked her first two punches, but missed the jumping roundhouse kick that knocked me off the platform onto the lower level, and she jumped down, kicking me twice before she landed.

She took up a boxing stance and threw punch after punch, randomly mixing in jab, crosses, punches, and uppercuts—not the rising super powerful kind we use in this tournament, but just your everyday, normal kind.

She jumped with a spinning kick that connected with the side of my head, and another jumping roundhouse, that I managed to block this time, but that still forced me backwards with the sheer strength she exhibited. She hit me with another kick, a jumping crescent of some sort, that connected with such force, the jumping kick I had been starting was not only deflected, but she knocked me backwards, into a pillar. It broke. Before I even hit the ground, she hit me with a jumping front snap kick that had to use the force of wind, because I ended up breaking through the old boards on the wall behind me, and landing outside, at least ten feet away from my previous position.

As I crawled back through the hole, I felt something odd on the ground, and picked up my sunglasses, absently smiling. However, I saw that the pillar had set off a chain reaction. The basket with the baby in it had been sitting on a landing, and it, along with the staircase began to fall.

"The baby!" yelled Number Seven, rushing forward. Wonder Woman turned and ran up a tilted pillar that had broken some time before. I picked up a five-foot piece of rounded timber, running forward.

The baby fell further and Wonder Woman jumped, preparing to dive for it. I jumped also, preparing to shove the log into her skull. The woman was a nuisance.

Then something with hands jumped on me and the piece of wood, killing our momentum and making me hit the ground hard.

I woke up a second or two later, to the sound of a baby crying. I noticed that Wonder Woman had still somehow missed, and she jumped through a pile of planks.

"How's the baby?" asked Number Seven, standing up and attempting to pick off the straw stuck to her.

I grabbed her wrist and began pulling her to the wall.

"Whoa, wait!" she protested. I kicked a large hole in the flimsy wall with an axe kick and dragged her through it to the right.

I dragged her several yards, and she said, "That's enough! You're really trying my patience! Who are you?"

I was getting disgusted with her resisting. "Let's go, Number Seven."

She gasped, taking hold of my hand that was on her wrist. "It's you! Number Three." She wrenched off my hand and threw her hands down, disgustedly. "Stop pulling me. Stop. I can walk on my own."

We finally halted in a clearing outside of town, where the huge power lines were. Cotton was flying everything. I deactivated the robe and took off my sunglasses. Number Seven spoke first.

"It's been over ten years. You're still in great shape! Where did the old monster find the invisible robe?"

"Now that you know he's behind this, are you still going to get involved?" I hoped the thought of facing him would scare her into giving up.

"Thanks, but no thanks. I was lucky enough to crawl out of that hellhole. Thanks for sparing my life. Now I really value it. What does the old monster want with so many babies?"

"He's waiting for the next eclipse to choose one to be the emperor."

"What about the ones that are not chosen?"

"Worse," I confessed. "Master will turn them to Number Nines."

"Number Three," she said, "Why don't you do the babies a favor. Just kill them all now." I started to walk away. She followed me. "That old monster had me for three years. When I finally got out, it took me ten years to work myself back to being human. I don't want to see the babies all turn into monsters."

"You can pretend you know nothing," I said. "Stay out of it. Otherwise, if the Master orders, I'll still have to kill you."

"Do it now then!" she challenged me.

I threw a rock at her face. She caught it.

I reactivated the robe. "You won't be so lucky next time," I warned, as I left.

* * *

The next day, I was sitting in my room, reading a story you wrote while you were waiting for a test to complete—yours was not the best computer—when a messenger dove flew in through the window I left open for you. This had been happening often, but the messages had been about babies that I needed to steal and when.

I held up my hand and the dove landed on it. I checked to make sure you weren't around, then pulled the message out of the tube on its leg. I carefully unrolled it, and the message was not one I wanted to hear. I could hear the message as the Master would say it in his spirit voice. Whether he was actually repeating it in my mind at that time, I do not know.

*Get the invisible robe within ten days, then kill the doctor. Succeed or die.*

I rushed into the lab, wishing to make the best of the time you were away. I glanced at the foreign-looking American keyboard, then found the main files about the robe. I pushed the button that opened the menu along the top of the spreadsheet, moved my cursor to copy, then hit the enter key. The screen changed, writing _COPY_ very large and coloring the background a bright blue-green.

I looked at your printouts, and searched the files I'd copied. Then, I heard the door open.

"Hey, what are you doing?" I looked up to see you running toward me. I looked down at the desk, saw the sharp-looking envelope opener, and picked it up, holding it like a dagger.

You stopped before you got to me. "I've said it many times." You sounded almost exasperated. "It's dangerous in here. Come on." You grabbed my wrist and pulled me away from the computer, I let the letter opener go, and took a few quick steps to catch up so you didn't have to drag me.

"Why is it so dangerous? You're in here all the time and you're fine. But you don't want me here. Are you hiding something from me?"

You shut the heavy-duty door behind you. "No, you know everything."

I walked over to the table and leaned against it. "You said the invisible robe also belongs to me. Then why wasn't I told the invisible robe can now be exposed to UV light?" I baited you, trying to find out whether that was true.

"No, it can't. Not yet," you replied. "When it can, you'll be the first to know." You walked over to me.

I stood up, confronting you. "Then what have you been doing in here these last few days?" I'd noticed you weren't stuck in the same cycle you had been for more than three months.

You raised you finger and smiled at me. "I was working on another project." You indicated a little cloth-covered rectangle, then pulled off the covering. Underneath was a glass aquarium, only with soil in the bottom, and your plants growing inside. "Look, they were dead. Now they've come back to life."

I leaned forward to look at them. "Any flowers?"

"Yes, in a month or so." My attention focused on the flowers, I didn't see you wince in pain. "Ching." You paused as if out of breath. "Will you put them under the sun for me every day and water them every night?"

I reached onto the table to a pile of folded papers, and threw one at you. "Lucky stars, you taught me how to make them. I'm sure you'll see the flowers bloom." That statement in itself was a rebellion against the Master's orders.

You smiled back at me, then left to continue working. I started to water the flowers, then heard the all-too-familiar voice in my head.

*Get the invisible robe within ten days, then kill the doctor. Succeed or die.*

I tried to ignore it, and continued watering.

* * *

When I reported to the Master the day after I got the message, he informed me that someone had come and tried to rescue the babies, but had set off the alarm. The intruder was a female, and she had escaped.

"Do you know who the intruder was?" he asked me.

"No."

"She reminded me of someone, but she should have been dead for over ten years."

Number Seven? If it was her, I couldn't let him know she wasn't dead. "Yes," I said. "I killed Number Seven with my own hands. Only Wonder Woman could have gotten in here alone. She's been meddling in our plan. There's a good chance that the intruder was her. Let me take care of her, Master."

He turned and looked at me for the first time. "Leave such matters to someone else," he commanded. "Number Nine!" he yelled, turning his head back. Number Nine kneeled down. "Kill Wonder Woman and if necessary, die with her!"

Number Nine growled in acknowledgement.

I was not in a good position. The Master was starting to not trust me anymore.

* * *

Eight days later, I went to water the flowers. I felt something on my hand. I looked down to see that a butterfly had somehow managed to make it through the giant fan without being chopped to bits. I smiled at it. Butterflies have always been one of my favorite creatures. Then I looked down at the flowers. Buds were beginning to show on the plants. I dashed behind the table.

"Hey, there are buds!" But as I looked into the lab, I saw you rise, but fall down, and hit the ground. My smile vanished, and the butterfly flew away, but that went unnoticed. I ran into the lab, full speed, and helped you up. You struggled against me, toward the computer.

"What's wrong?" I cried. "Sit down." I pushed you toward the chair.

"No. I just thought of something," you said urgently, getting away from me, and reaching the desk. "I need to write it down quickly."

"Why don't you sit down first?" I pleaded.

"No. Leave me alone." You pushed me away. I started to try to pull you away again, but something stopped me.

A drop of blood landed on the keyboard.

I stood up straight and looked at you. You were breathing much more heavily than you should have been; you were quite athletic before, and I didn't put up that much of a fight. And blood was dripping out of your nose.

"It's because of your work."

You didn't look at me. "The robe's emitting toxins. It has been for some time, no matter what I do. That's why I've always told you to stay out of my lab."

"But the flowers are budding already." My mind wasn't exactly working perfectly after I'd learned this shocking news.

"If the flowers can bloom, that means I'll be fine too!" You sounded so confident. I don't know why. "Please hurry. Leave!"

"We're partners. How can I leave you like this?"

You blinked and looked around as if something more was wrong. "Where are my glasses?"

They were sitting on your face. "I love you," I said.

You slowly reached up and touched them, as I reached up my right and started to wipe the blood away.

"I will not die before the invisible robe is successfully completed." You grabbed a lock of my hair and smelled it. "I can still smell the fragrance of your hair."

The blood had continued to run, so I reached up to wipe it away again. It kept running, faster than ever, so I pressed one hand against the flow, then the other. Still, a drop of blood ran through, as if telling me, "You cannot stop this."

I felt tears in my eyes for the first time in an eternity, perhaps even the first in my limited memory back then. I heard the click of your keyboard, and I looked down at the screen. "Don't cry..."

You gently grabbed my wrists and pulled them away from your nose. "Why don't we go take a look at the flowers outside?"

I finally looked back up at you, and nodded. We walked back to the door, stepping on papers strewn everywhere from when you fell. You stumbled just away from the door, and fell against the edge.

"I'll be all right. You go on. Get out of here." You placed your hand on my shoulder, and shoved me inside with all your strength. I stumbled forward, not expecting that, and you still maintained most of your physical strength from before. It seemed to be only your lungs and balance that were affected.

I looked back to see you slam the door shut, and lock it from the outside.

I stepped to the side and slammed my hands against the glass. "Let me in! Yuan! Let me in!"

You stumbled back to desk, weaving back and forth like drunk. I flipped the table over in rage.

"Even if you get in," you said, "I won't leave." I picked up a chair, and threw it against the glass. It held. I threw another. It held.

"The invisible robe will be completed when the flowers bloom." You put your chair back on its feet, and sat down. I threw a jar full of brightly colored liquid. That glass shattered and the liquid sprayed everywhere, but the window held.

"You promised me you'd take care of them." I reached for another chair. "Have you forgotten your promise?"

I forced down my tears.

You idiot.


	8. Lacking Answers

**Bondage**  
by Nyohah

8  
**Lacking Answers**  
Fourth Day of Mortal Kombat

* * *

Sub-Zero was already in the living forest, trying to ignore the trees' faces as he stretched, when Mileena arrived for their fight. She looked around, marveling at the odd curse that had caused the trees to become alive, when she saw a flash of bright emerald behind a tree. She looked closer and saw there was a slight drift of smoke from behind the same tree. She slowly backed away, staring at the tree. Finally, she saw the green more clearly—Jade—and the source of the smoke—a ninja wearing the same uniform as Sub-Zero, but in gray, with odd plumes of smoke drifting away from his body.

Jade had something in her hands, and from the positions of the two ninjas, they were having some sort of conversation. The ninja in gray nodded, and Jade handed the object she held to him. It was about the same size as one of her fans, but it was not quite the same, as there were knobs on the sides, and some sort of yellowed material rolled around the poles. _A scroll?_ wondered Mileena.

She had no more time to wonder about the subject, because Kahn's voice suddenly appeared from nowhere; apparently they'd judged that the others were ready, and they'd waited on Mileena long enough.

"Fight!"

The two fighters circled for a long while, before Mileena became too impatient and attacked first. What ensued was a battle of who could punch and kick fast enough to penetrate the other's guard. Mileena was quite surprised at the speed of the ninja. He had been holding back in this area in his other fights, when he hadn't needed to be extraordinarily fast. Mileena hit him with more strikes than he did her, and he began to waver.

She thought she had it won, after she managed to fit a spinning crescent kick in and it sent him a few feet away. He jumped back to his feet, not as quickly as before, and she was aiming a roundhouse kick, when he suddenly leaned back, lifting his foot out of the way, and covered a meter circular area with ice.

Mileena slipped on the ice, flailing her arms and trying to keep her balance until the thin layer melted. She needn't have worried about that. He struck with two quick roundhouse kicks, one to the ribs and another to the head and followed it with a spinning hook kick, without ever setting his left foot down.

Rather than let this opportunity slip away, Sub-Zero flipped after Mileena, and as she rose, he grabbed her shoulder, stuck his foot in her gut, and rolled backwards, letting go at the end.

Mileena stood up, and backed away slowly. Sub-Zero stayed in his spot, having already risen, and they were both glad for the mutual agreement to take a short breather. And then, by accident or luck, Mileena's mask decided to be belligerent for the first time in her life, and slipped off. Just as the gray ninja was leaning from behind a tree.

He saw her face, and Mileena saw a look of shock register on it. The second time she'd been unmasked, the second expression of shock, and the second Lin Kuei ninja. _What is it with these Lin Kueis? Do they have a goddess that looks like me or something?_

She sought to close in the space, knowing she was faster in close, and not needing to fear his strength, for it was not exceptional, like a body builder's. She won the fight this way, but after she left, she felt she had missed something. No one had ever mentioned anything about Sub-Zero being very fast.

* * *

Jade dropped in on Mileena again that night. Mileena decided not to mention the secret meeting in the woods. How could a scroll possibly hurt someone?

"There's something I must show you." Jade beckoned for Mileena to follow, then jumped back into the hole on her ceiling. Reluctantly, but realizing she really had nothing else to do, Mileena followed. They traveled through pitch-black darkness for several minutes, and just as Mileena was beginning to wonder if they were lost, a light appeared. As they approached, it grew brighter to become a slit in the wall. By the glowing light, Mileena could see Jade signal to be silent with a finger to her mask. She lay down by the hole peering through it. Mileena did likewise.

"Take my hand," said Jade. "We need to be invisible so we are not spotted. This hole is not very well protected." The other ninja obeyed, and she found that being veiled by someone's natural talent was much preferable to the invisible robe.

They were looking down at a room that Mileena had never seen before. There was a giant tank inside of it, with a technologically advanced console that seemed completely out of place in the midst of the ancient demon runes that decorated the walls of the chamber.

"A computer," Mileena wondered aloud.

"It's keeping her alive while she finishes growing. You can't see her from this side, but you can from the other. And I cannot take you down there because I cannot make two people intangible and invisible at the same time. It's too much of a stretch on my chi."

"So why did you bring me here? I still have only your word that what you say is true. You could—"

"Shh! He's coming."

The door of the room opened and Shang Tsung walked in, followed by Baraka.

"Even though you have been bad, I still am going to give you your present," the necromancer was saying. He walked around to the back of the tank, and pressed on the buttons. Baraka was on the other side staring in fascination.

A light blinked on the edge of the tank for a full minute. Then the door opened, and Shang Tsung walked back around to the front.

It stepped out of the tank, long black hair, mutant teeth.

"I thought you would like her," said Shang Tsung. "I call her Mileena, after her 'mother.'"

Sitting up in the hidden passage, Mileena hissed. She began to lunge forward, maliciously, but Jade put her hand up.

"What are you doing? You can't fit through that hole," she whispered.

"No," replied Mileena, drawing a sai, "but this can."

Jade grabbed the wrist of the hand she was holding it with, and wrenched it around. Mileena dropped the sai, and it clattered to the floor of the secret passage. Then Jade rolled onto her back and threw Mileena away from the opening using her wrist as leverage. Mileena hit the ground with a thud.

Shang Tsung looked up sharply. Then he ran out of the room, leaving Baraka leering at his gift.

"He's heard us," said Jade, rising from her spot near the opening. "Quick."

"No," said Mileena. "There's a faster way. Take my hand again." Jade obeyed without question, and Mileena teleported to her room. She let go of Jade, and teleported again, to her room.

She put away her letter, then looked up. To her horror she saw the secret passage still open. _What I wouldn't give for Kitana's telekinetic powers._ She quickly teleported to the passage, and slid the tile back in place. Teleporting back into her room, she slid into the Chinese splits, and reached over backwards, stretching for her back foot, as Shang Tsung slammed open her door.

He looked rather disappointed in finding her there. "Have you been here for the last hour?"

"But of course," she said, sitting up from her stretching position. "I have to practice for the tournament."

The sorcerer raced back out the door, in the direction of Jade's room, without even shutting the door.

Mileena sighed with relief, stood up, shut the door, and collapsed on her bed.

* * *

The raven-haired girl laughed as she evaded an adolescent boy's pitifully slow attacks once more.

"You must not telegraph your movements," said the tall thin man, not to his daughter, but to his main pupil, the Li's eldest son. "And never forget to watch her eyes. They can betray her intentions, and you can use peripheral vision to see everything else. If you look down at her feet, she will punch you in the face, and you will never see it coming."

The girl smiled and effortlessly swung in two fast kicks that connected lightly with the boy's padding, then spun away.

_THUD_, _THUD_, _THUD_.

In the depths of her brain, something surfaced that made Mileena stop and think, _I don't remember that happening._

She opened her eyes, slowly and heard the sound again, though not nearly as loud. It was a rather nervous-sounding knock on the door, as if the person knocking was afraid of the resident actually opening the door, which quite ruled out Kitana. And Jade would have probably dropped in through the ceiling, or walked through the door without even opening it.

She finally reached the door, and opened it. A rather nervous-looking ice ninja stood there, trying to decide whether what he wanted was worth the effort. He was holding something gray.

"What do you want?"

He stood there for a long time, until finally taking a deep breath and thrusting the object into her hands. "I thought you might like to have this."

She looked down at it. It looked rather gruesome, demonic. It was a small stone statue of some kind of imp. She held it up and looked questioningly at Sub-Zero.

"Why would I want this? It's a demon."

"No," he corrected. "It's a gargoyle. They used to put them on cathedrals to scare away demons."

"Does it work? I actually saw something like this in the underworld."

"Does a dream catcher work? It's symbolic. My mother gave it to me to bring, but I think you need it more than I do."

"Well, I'm asking if there is some sort of guarantee, so I could sue you if it doesn't work."

"I'm not Sony, and that's not a CD player."

Mileena smiled. "Thanks." Sub-Zero nodded his head, and swiftly left. Mileena shook her head. She shut the door and started to walk back to her bed. On an impulse, she turned it over, to look at the bottom. There was one word carved there, _Syada_, followed by a sign in a different language. She realized it was Mandalorian writing, the language they'd used in her village, and that the Demon Master had later taught her to speak but not write—the Forbidden Language, used by his enemies. However, she didn't recognize the word. Somehow, from the back of her memory, she recognized that the word and symbol meant the same thing, and she knew she'd heard someone say the word to her before, but she could not remember who, or why.

Later that night, in the morning actually, she had another dream.

The tall thin man gathered the raven-haired girl and the other little girl in his arms, and hugged them. "_Syada_," he said in Mandalorian, then in Mandarin added, "I'll see you tomorrow morning."

Mileena sat up quickly, knowing the answer was in her dream, but having the most frustrating feeling of not being able to remember what that dream was.

* * *

The Book of the Dead lay on a table made from a marble slat supported by Shokan femur bones. A vial that had once contained a liter of thick, red liquid sat next to it.

Shao Kahn and Shang Tsung waited, having just finished the last step in the resurrection process.

"You're sure Cage's blood was sufficient?" asked Tsung, miffed, a little at the waiting time, a lot at the unidentified visitors he'd had in the cloning chamber. Kahn did not have time to answer the question, because there was a bright flash of crimson, and as the smoke settled they saw a shape.

It did not appear to be the demon they had set to bring back to life. It was rather rectangular with points sticking out from an odd shape at the top. Then they saw a creature rise from the odd shaped thing. It walked out to greet them, and they realized their mistake. The odd shape was a dragon-shaped pallet.

The creature was their intended target. He was rather short, wearing flowing robes and a ram's horn headdress. "I have returned from the depths of hell, back to continue the fight against out enemies. And I am quite disappointed in your lack of progress since my unfortunate departure."

It had been far too long since Tsung had heard that voice, and he had to keep himself from laughing at the woman's voice the powerful demon used, due to the fact he was, indeed, a eunuch. But anyone who had any kind of sixth sense could feel the power that radiated from him, and it was more than enough to stop the sorcerer's amusement from increasing.

"Master," he said, "We do have a plan. But first, may I ask how you died?"

"You do not need to know sorcerer. They are on Earth, they cannot hurt you when you're on Outworld."

"Simply curiosity, Master."

"Is this plan one of yours, necromancer?"

"Yes, Master."

"Then perhaps I should consider promoting you again if it works, Shang Tsung." He started to walk back to his pallet.

"Yes, that would be most gratifying." Shang Tsung gave Shao Kahn a smile that was the epitome of their backstabbing relationship.


	9. The Heroic Trio

**Bondage**  
by Nyohah

9  
**The Heroic Trio**  
Letter to Yuan Li

* * *

Liu Kang had to fight Kung Lao. You should have seen their faces. It was very amusing, their disbelief at the thought that they would possibly they have to seriously injure their 'brother'. Liu Kang won, of course, though Lao put up a very good fight.

Kitana disqualified Jax from the tournament. And Scorpion beat Baraka, though I don't know any details of that fight. I fought Sub-Zero, and I have to say I was much surprised at his talent. I beat him, but he was very fast.

* * *

The evening after I found out you were dying, I left. I couldn't stay there anymore. I couldn't go back. So I went to the Underworld. Ten days had passed since I was told to get the invisible robe. I didn't have it.

In the abandoned intersection that was the location of the underworld's entrance Number Seven intercepted me. I wondered how long she had been staked out in the area, waiting for me to show up.

I had just kicked open the manhole.

"Number Three." I turned around to face her. "Do you still go to that old monster?" I started to walk back to her. She had torn off the left arm of her jacket and taken strips from it, tying them tightly around her arm, which was looking very poisoned.

"You think he'll let the doctor live?" she asked. "As soon as the invisible robe is finished, he'll have you kill him."

I felt like saying, "Tell me something I don't know." Instead I asked, "How many needles did you get?"

She grabbed her arm and looked around flustered. "Only if you help us will Wonder Woman and I have a chance to kill the old monster."

I grabbed toward her arm. She slapped my hand away, but I reached with the other and got a firm grasp on her wrist. She tried to knee me, but I blocked it. She tried to slap me, but I blocked it, pushing her arm away with such force that she spun away. I pulled her forward, and twisted her arm, forcing her to bend over. I reached down and pulled her knife out of the top of her fishnet stockings.

She was leaning against a pillar, grunting. I spun back, forcing her body against it with mine. Then I placed the blunt edge of the knife on the vein running through her arm that the needle had imbedded itself in. She screamed in pain. I waited for the pressure to build up, then released my pressure, at the same time dragging the knife along the path the needle had taken, forcing it out. A trail of blood ran out of Number Seven's hand. I held her wrist until the poison had all drained out, then I released it, walking away.

"You're such a wimp! How can you help Wonder Woman?"

"I don't care what you say. You saved my life." She was talking as fast as she could, trying to get her message out before I reached the hole. "But please ask yourself. In order to protect the doctor, you'd let the old monster control you." I stopped and listened to her. "How many innocent babies must die? You can lie to others, but you can't lie to yourself." I started to walk away. "Wonder Woman may be able to help you now. Meet me at the fields tomorrow." I kicked open the manhole. "I will not leave until you show up!" she shouted as I jumped down the hole.

* * *

I stood before the Master and his four guards. He was walking around, an obvious sign of his agitation. I was trying to explain to him why I didn't have the robe.

"Number Three, where is the robe?"

"The invisible robe is still not functional under the sun," I explained. "This would mean a much less powerful weapon for the Emperor's army. The doctor is very close to perfecting his formula. I thought I'd give him a couple more days."

The Master started down the stairs toward me. "By tomorrow sundown, perfected or not, I want the invisible robe. Number Nine will assist you when the time comes." He walked past me and I followed him.

"In Master's grand plan, my work is so insignificant." We entered the maze of birdcages, each containing a baby.

"If I can only find an emperor among the princes, you will not go unrewarded!" Master turned and looked in at a baby. He was sleeping peacefully. We continued on. There was a noise coming from the next cage. The baby was fidgeting and making little noises. We both looked at him.

"The other princes are asleep," said the Master. He lifted up a hand, holding three poison needles. "You should be too!"

I jerked forward instinctively, reaching out my arm, but I stopped myself, so I wouldn't commit such an atrocious betrayal. Master threw the needles at his head, and walked away.

I lingered at the cage staring at the now-dead baby and wondering why I allowed myself to serve the monster. I finally managed to make myself leave, and I had to walk quickly to catch up with the Master.

He was walking toward the group of little boys. "If each and every one of them can be invisible, they'll be even more powerful than Number Nine."

The boys were crouched on the ground, eating what little was left of the human corpses they had already devoured. They would all be Number Nines someday.

"At that time," Master said, referring to the time they would be grown up, "the world will belong to the Emperor and I. Number Three, do you know how important you are?"

"Yes, Master."

* * *

After I left the underworld, I wandered aimlessly. Eventually, it began to lightning and sprinkle.

A lightning bolt hit the ground in front of me. I heard the Master's voice.

*Our lucky day is here. Perfected or not, the invisible robe must be brought to me.*

Another bolt hit, just in front and to the right of me.

*Then, kill the doctor.*

I decided what I had to do so I couldn't kill the doctor. But I couldn't do it myself. Number Seven was easily provoked, though.

It was raining quite hard when I passed a telephone booth, and decided to make use of it.

You answered the phone with a cough, and a faint "Yuan Li."

"You must leave the lab," I said.

"Ching? Is that you? Come back."

"Doctor," I said, "I will never come back again."

"I will not leave unless I see you."

"Trust me. You're now in grave danger. Leave the lab at once." I hung up.

* * *

The next day I borrowed a horse and rode toward the fields outside of Hong Kong. I hadn't even bothered to change.

Number Seven looked as though she had been waiting for a while, and Wonder Woman was not there. That surprised me. I kicked my right leg over the horse, dropped to the ground, and walked toward Number Seven.

"Welcome to the party!" Number Seven said sarcastically.

I continued toward her. "Master has sent me to kill you," I lied.

"Wait, Number Three..."

"I won't let you off so easily this time." I squared off, ten feet from her.

"You think you can really kill me?"

"I must follow Master's orders. But I can promise you I'll do one thing for you after you're dead."

"Hold it right there. I may not be the one to die." Number Seven was taking the bait perfectly. "It could be you. Do you have any unfinished business? Tell me now."

"Take care of the doctor for me."

"Doctor?" questioned Number Seven as I snapped my chain out toward her face.

Number Seven stumbled backward and drew her knife. We spun in a game in which everything depended on dodging the other's weapon, and the goal was to penetrate the other's defenses with your own. Eventually I punched her in the chest and jumped backward.

She, too, jumped back, and she threw her knife toward me, just as I had wanted. She turned around to wait until I blocked it.

I dropped my hands down and watched the spinning blade as it drew ever closer to my neck.

"Save the doctor for me!" I stressed.

Number Seven finally got it and started to run toward me. She would never make it in time.

I watched the blade as it approached, a meter from my neck. A foot. Six inches.

Another blade suddenly appeared in front of my face, and I flinched backward, not expecting this one. It deflected Number Seven's knife, aiming it back to her, where she caught it.

Wonder Woman dropped to the ground in front of me.

Number Seven walked toward me. "Number Three, what were you trying to pull?"

Wonder Woman answered for me. "She did not come here to kill you. She came here to get herself killed."

Number Seven looked back to me. "You're sacrificing your life to save that man?"

"My life? I'm just an animal that Master uses to kill."

"Animals don't have feelings," said Wonder Woman. "And they definitely do not sacrifice themselves for others." She reached up behind her head and carefully removed her mask.

I looked at the woman in shock. It was Mrs. Lau. There was no longer any doubt why she thought she could save the babies from the psycho in the hospital. She undoubtedly could have.

"Your life is meaningful when you are willing to face yourself," she continued.

"No," I said, backing away. "I can't face myself." I turned and ran toward my horse. "And most of all, I can't face him!"

"Number Three!" she yelled after me. I jumped off of a large rock, landing on the fence and stepping onto the horse's back, kicking it to make it run. Wonder Woman followed me.

We rode past the meadows onto a beach.

"Number Three!" Wonder Woman yelled. "You can change from now on."

"What difference would it make? I'm still Number Three."

She still followed me as we left the beach. "It's too late! Don't follow me. Let me go!"

"You've shunned your past. This is your true self."

"I deserve to die." Up ahead I saw a cliff. I headed straight for it. Wonder Woman caught up with me, and as the cliff grew nearer, she saw what I planned to do.

Feet from the edge, she jumped off her horse and tackled me, trying to keep me at the top. It didn't work. We hit some rocks at the edge and continued to slide down. Somehow, during the fall, she managed to grab my wrist, and even more amazingly, she found a tiny ledge on the side and latched her fingers to it, holding on through sheer will more than anything else.

My feet dangled in midair. This was the same cliff the raven-haired girl had fallen off of.

More rocks tumbled down. Number Seven had arrived at the top, looking down at us in horror. As I looked up at her, I noticed something else.

Our struggles had somehow managed to make each of our mid-bicep length gloves slide down to our wrists, more a miracle than anything else. Our hands were latched around each other's elbows, and perfectly lined up in the middle of our forearms was a tattoo of a _V_-shaped blade, one almost identical to the darts Wonder Woman used. The point was on her arm. The legs were on mine.

As I hung there, something else came to me.

The raven-haired little girl stood in a place that had tall pillars that glowed from the heat of the earth's core. The underworld.

Behind her stood an old, rather short man in flowing robes. He looked exactly like my Master, only minus the headdress.

"You're no longer Ching," the demon said. "Starting today you will be known as Number Three." A log hit the raven-haired girl in the back of the head and she fell forward, crying out from the pain.

I could no longer deny that the girl could be me; she most definitely was. I remembered that the girl had a sister who had been standing on the top of the cliff when she fell. The girl's sister suddenly had a name—Tung.

I looked at Wonder Woman, and saw she was staring back at me.

"Tung-Tung?" I asked.

"Ching-Ching?" Wonder Woman replied.

"Let go of my hand or we'll both fall."

"No," she said stubbornly. Then the rock she was holding onto broke from the side of the cliff, and we slid down even farther.

Again, Tung somehow managed to grip the rock face.

"Catch!" yelled Number Seven from the top of the cliff, and the two ends of a rope came down, one for each of us. We gladly grabbed it, and slid down, as our combined body weight pulled Number Seven forward.

"I can't hold it much longer," she warned, but I didn't move. And Tung had obviously decided she would not go until I did.

Tung looked at me. "I won't let go. If you want to let go, we'll let go together."

I did want to end my life, but not at the expense of my sister's and I then figured out what was nagging at me. The Master said Number Nine would help me. So whether or not I went to get the robe, Number Nine would, he would be instructed to kill you, and he would show no mercy.

"Is it really you?" I asked, clarifying my position, and also stalling while I contemplated what I wanted to do.

"You two really know each other?" asked Number Seven from the top of the cliff.

"I don't remember anymore!" I half-lied, but she cut me off.

"The past is not important. What's important is what you want to do now."

"Say it!" yelled Number Seven, who obviously didn't care too much, but who definitely wanted us to climb up as soon as possible, as she was in pain.

"Master has sent Number Nine to kill the Doctor. I want to save him."

"Doctor?" yelled Number Seven, still disbelieving.

I turned and began to climb up the rope. Tung immediately followed me.

At the top we remounted our horses—or motorcycle—and rode back to Hong Kong.

* * *

I ran ahead of the others, into the room with the glass panes. I looked into the lab and saw you.

Your hands were tied together and you hung from the ceiling on a hook.

Number Nine was crouched on the giant machine, holding the contraption he used to decapitate people. It was shaped like a hat with a veil that hung down all around it, but made out of chain mail. Razors were hidden in the bottom, and when it was thrown upon a person's head, Number Nine could cause it to cleanly slice through their head. It was really quite helpful when Master literally wanted someone's head, as it would stay inside unless taken out.

You slowly lifted your head, blood and sweat dripping off of it.

I ran back to Number Seven who had just come in the door. "Give it to me!" I said, taking her shotgun. I ran toward the glass, shooting it three times. I threw the gun back toward Number Seven and leapt through the shattering glass.

I ran up toward you, but stopped as I reached the desk. Above, you slowly shook your head at me, as Number Nine jumped down from the machine. To my dismay, he threw his decapitating device back toward you. It landed on your head, but Nine didn't pull on the robe and cut off your head.

"The invisible robe is light-proof now," you managed. "No one can find it."

Number Nine wrapped the chain around his fist, and started to pull on it.

"No!" I screamed and to my amazement, Number Nine stopped. The blades must have barely started to cut into your neck. Number Nine stood, staring straightforward, oblivious to the drops of blood that fell onto his upraised hand.

"Ching, I have so much to say to you," you said. "It's all in the box." I looked down toward the desk. There was a small box sitting there. I reached down and pulled off the lid. A small, black tape recorder lay inside. I lifted it out.

Number Nine grunted and stuck out his left hand. Somewhere along the line he must have lost the other three fingers on that hand, because the fingers of his glove drooped.

Number Seven, from her position against the frame that had once held the panes of glass, threw her knife at Number Nine. It spun forward and slashed a deep cut into his upper arm. He looked down in surprise at the blood that was welling on his arm, but otherwise, made no movements, or any acknowledgements of pain.

Number Seven caught her knife and scrutinized it, as if making sure it was still sharp.

"It doesn't matter how you hit him," I explained. "He will not let go until he's gotten what he came for." I heard a sound coming from another direction—Tung's—and I faced her as she swung her sword in a desperate attempt to slow me down. I brought my right hand up from the opposite direction her blade was coming and caught it, holding it away from my chest.

Tung started to say something, but paused as she watched the blood from my hand run down her sword. She got her nerve back and said, "You can't give it to him."

"I've got nothing left now." I lowered her sword down. "I cannot lose him too." I threw the tape recorder to Number Nine.

He reached out to catch it, but Number Seven thought fast and threw her knife at it, deflecting it away. Number Nine started to move forward to retrieve the tape. Tung grabbed a blade from her hair and threw it slightly upward; severing both the chain that activated the decapitator, and the rope that held you up.

I ran forward and caught you as you fell to the ground, then gently laid you down. Tung started to fight Number Nine as I removed the device from your head. "I'm sorry," I whispered.

You shook your head, "I know your Master cannot make you kill me." I briefly wondered how you knew, and then glanced up as Number Nine threw Tung across the room and started to the recorder.

She threw a dart at his back, but it just imbedded itself, and he didn't even flinch. He reached down, and Tung threw another, knocking the recorder away, where Number Seven caught it under her foot.

I looked back down, not saying anything. I heard a few gunshots as I helped you sit up.

Number Nine was once again reaching for the tape, but Tung jumped and kicked him in the back, knocking him forward. They resumed their fight.

Number Nine eventually, in a series of missing punches, managed to punch a hole through the machine. Steam burst through the hole, making him stumble backward slightly.

The room immediately started to heat up. "Come on, let's get out of here," I said, helping you up.

"Idiot, the tape is over here." I looked up and saw Number Seven standing on the machine, holding up the tape recorder. Number Nine looked over and growled. "Come and get it!" she yelled throwing it up in the air. Number Nine jumped up, getting leverage from the end of the machine. Then Number Seven opened it up, and jumped down. "Good-bye!"

Number Nine caught the tape, but fell down into the machine.

"It's getting too hot," said Tung, "we can't stay here."

I was already running forward, supporting you as you also ran with me. They joined us on our way out. Explosions went off all along the machine.

We ran out into the room that once had had glass, and found that it was considerably cooler, so we stopped, sat you down and kneeled around you.

The machine suddenly stopped, having emitted all the gas and heat in it.

"Ching," you coughed, "it's better to destroy the equipment then to let it fall into their hands." You forced a smile.

"Let's go!" said Number Seven nodding her head in the direction of the door. I looked up, and Tung met my gaze. She understood.

"You two go ahead!" I urged.

"Then what about you?" asked Number Seven, angrily.

"Let her be." Tung cut her off. She stood up and walked away. Number Seven hopped up and followed her.

"Where are we going?"

"To the monster dungeon to rescue the babies," stated Tung.

"Just the two of us?" asked Number Seven skeptically, and she glanced back at me as she walked out the door. "Let me at least grab my weapon first!"

You grabbed my arm and pulled yourself farther upward. "May I take a look at the flowers that bloomed?"

For the first time in my memory, the tears escaped from my eyes, and I didn't even bother to try to hold them back. I walked away from you to grab the flowers, now in full bloom.

I picked them up and turned around, but on the floor your body was no longer moving, not even breathing.

I sank back down into a chair and sat there for a long time.

Eventually, I sat the flowers back down and rose. Pausing once at the door to turn around and look one more time to make sure you weren't suddenly breathing, I left and headed toward the entrance to the underworld.

Once there, I heard the sounds of a fight going on, so I ran, taking a different path than usual. They were fighting in front of the dais the Master usually stood on.

As I ran up the back side and across the top, I saw Master holding one of Number Seven's ammo belts.

I jumped off the dais and lashed out with my enchanted chain, praying and relying on every judgment I could make on the distance and angle as Master caused the bullets for Number Seven's machine gun to erupt from their holding places. Some higher being than I must have been helping me for I managed to catch every bullet and deflect them.

I landed in front of Number Seven and Tung, crouching and preparing for another offensive. "Tung, take Number Seven and get out of here!"

"No!" protested Number Seven. "I want to fight him to the bitter end!"

"No," replied Tung. Master moved forward a step.

I looked back at them. "You have to leave now or you'll get poisoned!" The air was highly concentrated with methane, and Master also had his needles to use; in all honesty I don't know why he hadn't yet.

I looked back and heard Tung say, "Let's go!" and the sound of running feet.

I leapt forward and swung my chain out toward Master, in much the same fashion as I had against Number Seven. The demon may have been very old, but he was still a very good fighter, and even unarmed he managed to avoid my chain and everything else I threw at him, even the kicks I flashed in. We jumped together, attacking and defending with the same style, he having been my teacher. I tried everything, even lowering myself down into the splits and flinging the chain at his feet, attempting to trip him, but it was no use. I could not defeat him myself.

I landed in a crouch after yet another missed jumping swing, and ran back toward the ropes. Master followed me, but I had always been faster.

I found that only one rope remained, a new one, dropped by Tung, and I grabbed onto it, and found myself not even needing to climb. Tung pulled me up, leaving the Master down below. I boosted myself out of the hole, using the force of wind, and landed on the street above.

Number Seven ran forward, fistfuls of sizzling dynamite in her hands. "Happy New Year!" she exclaimed throwing them into the hole. We ran away, as explosions racked the street.

After several explosions, we stopped, having nowhere left to run, surrounded by smoke billowing from blown-off manhole covers and water bursting from the remains of fire hydrants. We surveyed the wreckage, and Number Seven proclaimed, "Good! I've turned you into a roast chicken!"

Just then, another cover blew off. We all turned our heads in surprise. "Why is this one so slow?" wondered Seven.

Then we saw the shape rising out of the hole, just below the cover. "He's still not dead yet?"

He flew up into the air, far beyond what any normal human could jump, or what the force of the explosion would have taken him. We all ran forward the meet him as he fell back down to meet us.

Our trio formed a circle around the demon, each of us trying to dismember him with our particular weapon, unsuccessfully, as his more highly developed—and extra—senses alerted him to each attack.

Number Seven and I both attacked, driving him forward, while Tung backed up, trying to catch him from behind. We were all basically spinning, and we all turned around to see he had cheated, spinning up into the air. We stopped, as he landed on a bridge, bolts of lightning flickering around him. We all ran forward to the bridge and stood, regrouping to come up with a new plan.

The demon just laughed at us, at our pitiful efforts to destroy him.

"I'll blow you to pieces!" shouted Number Seven, pulling out an extraordinarily large stick of explosives, and pulling off the end, lighting it. She threw it up toward the monster. He reached out his hand and made a fist, as if squeezing the dynamite. It exploded in a bright flash of light, and the demon reached his hands up to his face to shield his eyes. He'd been in the underworld for a very long time.

"He's afraid of light," I noted.

"Throw some more," instructed Tung.

Number Seven pulled out another stick of explosives and raised it in the air, but then she strained her head back, as if caught around the throat. Tung immediately put her hand to her throat, as if trying to pull off another's hand.

The demon stood on the bridge, his hands out, and he slowly raised them. My allies began to lift off the ground.

I draped my chain around my neck and leapt up, grabbing their feet before they were too far up. I looked up at the demon, then summoned the force of wind yet again to propel me up as I climbed up Tung and Seven's sides, also relying on the demon's almost unbreakable hold he had on them. I jumped off their shoulders, reaching an even height with the demon and throwing out my chain. He looked over at me, and hissed.

The chain he'd given me obeyed his will and erupted in a series of tiny explosions, each severing a link and throwing it back at my chest, with enough force to reverse my momentum, sending me hurtling toward the ground.

I hit a surface much more giving than the road, and heard glass shattering, seeing fragments of glass erupting from all four directions under me. I rolled on my side, and blacked out for a few seconds.

I woke up to an extremely bright flash. Then, as it receded, I saw two figures falling to the ground. They got caught on some telephone wire, which slowed down their descent, and then they hit the ground.

I forced myself to lean up a little and make sure Tung and Number Seven were all right. They lay on the ground for a few seconds, then Number Seven cursed and sat up. I tried to sit up more, alarmed, when she patted her face. She turned to the rising Tung and asked, "Is my face okay?"

Tung breathed a sigh of relief.

"What?" asked Number Seven, "Is he dead?"

"I don't know if you're dead," replied Tung, "but you almost scared me to death."

I groaned and lay back down. But a giant fireball caught my attention. I leaned forward again, and watched, horror growing, as a figure stepped out of the flames.

It was a skeleton, almost, with flesh dripping off of the bones, the skin completely burned off. In the skull, you could see an evil mind throbbing.

"He's still not dead yet?" asked Number Seven.

I rolled off the car I had been lying, on, and pausing a moment to collect myself and force away the pain, I rushed forward to my companions.

I knelt down beside them, the monster still approaching.

"He can still move?" asked Number Seven.

"Even though his body is destroyed," I said, "his mind and will are still in control." It's not easy to destroy a very powerful demon.

I ran forward toward the abomination, and threw one hooking punch at it. Its head just rolled back a little. I threw another punch. And another. On my fourth, the thing caught my wrist and squeezed it with a strength twice that of any man I'd ever encountered. I could feel the bones in my arm cracking, and I let out a little groan of pain as I struggled to free myself. The demon was squeezing so hard my hand was twitching as muscles in it spasmed.

It lashed out with its other arm, catching me in the side of the mouth, and my head turned back from the amazing force of the punch, blood spewing from my mouth. Then it grabbed the top of my coat, and literally ripped it off, then spun me toward it, letting go of my wrist to wrap its arm around my neck. It immediately contorted all the bones in its body, first wrapping its ribs around my chest, then its arms around mine, then its legs.

It immediately began to make me start to walk forward. "He's controlling me," I warned as I struggled against its will.

"Let me help you," said Tung, rushing forward.

"Don't come near me!" I warned, still struggling to not go forward.

She didn't listen and came forward, trying to free me. The demon forced me to swing out in a hooking punch to my sister's face. It missed as she ducked, but the next one with our other hands connected, forcing her backward, in a mirror image of my former reaction to the demon's punch. We continued and punched her in the stomach, forcing her to bend over.

"I can't control myself!" I said, as we lashed out with another connecting punch to the mouth. We punched her two more times, the last forcing her back a few steps. We had advanced to the car I whose windows I had shattered when I fell, and I wrapped our arms around the frame in the middle. "You have to go now. Go!" The demon struggled against me. "Take Number Seven and go!"

She finally stepped backward and helped Number Seven up, and they headed toward an elevator on the outside of a tall building.

The demon dislodged our arms, reaching out for the mirror with our left arms, and in desperation I grabbed for the door with our right arms. The thing laughed, as it pulled harder and the car door bent to a ninety-degree angle to the rest before it managed to break my grip.

We ran forward to the building Number Seven and Tung were rushing up, and we began to run up the side, like a spider.

The other two had reached the end of the elevator and now had ladders to contend with.

"Hurry!" I yelled at them. We reached the top, a few yards away from where they came up the last ladder. I began to struggle with the beast once more, but he eventually won, and we jumped down from the ledge we were standing on.

We landed just behind Number Seven, and we turned her around and punched her twice in the stomach. Tung forced us away from her, so we swung a hook at her that forced her into the air because it was so powerful. She hit the ground and shook her head, dizzy from the shock.

The demon forced my hand out, and I struggled, so this time he forced it over to the side. It hit the concrete ledge of the building's roof, and I felt a crack. I threw my head back and screamed in pain.

"Ching," Tung said in desperation.

"Don't let me hit you again!" I replied.

Number Seven yelled obscenities at the demon and ran forward, grabbing its head and beating on it with hers, trying to hurt it somehow.

We reached back with our right arm and punched her in the stomach. I yelled, "Go!" as she stumbled back.

The demon began to constrict its ribs. I felt mine begin to crack under the pressure. It squeezed harder and I twisted my head in pain, spitting more blood across the rooftop. Tung rushed behind me as I struggle to breathe and grabbed the demon's ribs, attempting to pull them away. She succeeded for a moment, then lost her grip. She continued to try, pulling with all her might against the monster's unnatural strength.

It soon became irritated and switched tactics, reversing the direction of its pushing and stabbing Tung in the stomach with one side of ribs. I heard her hiss of pain behind me.

Then, another thing invaded my head. *China must not be without an emperor.*

"He wants to control my mind," I told Tung, giving up on my chances of survival. "Go!"

"We'll die together!" she said, still as stubborn as ever.

"I'm already very happy to see you again." I flung my arms to the side, breaking her grip. "I can't take it anymore!" I ran toward the edge of the roof.

"Number Three!" protested Number Seven.

I flung myself off the roof, my sister and Number Seven's screams faintly heard behind me.

"Old monster," I declared, falling, "I'll die before I let you win!"

*China must not be without an emperor.*

I shook my head, trying to rid myself of the scenes passing through it. The Number Eights declaring the very same thing. The statues on the pillars.

My back impacted with something very hard, but it gave, and we continued falling, pieces of a metal balcony following us.

Then I saw what else had fallen. It was a group of flowers, dislodged from even the pot they had been in.

I fought against the mind control, remembering. The butterfly

...the flowers...

*China must not be without an emperor.* repeated the demon, trying to regain its control.

"The past is not important," said my sister. "What's important is the present!" I saw her dangling from the cliff, not willing to let me fall.

*China must not be without an emperor.* It began to regain its control, invoking images of its old, almost human form, while I struggled to keep my sister.

*China must not be without an emperor.* I saw the little boys who would become Number Nines, eating the human carcasses. The demon.

We continued to fall.

I screamed as I heard your voice.

"Can we watch the flowers bloom together?" I saw them, then you lying dead on the floor. I latched on to your image. I could feel the demon's distress.

"Doctor!" I screamed. I heard an explosion behind my head, and all the pressure was suddenly gone. The bones of the demon lost their grip and fell.

I continued to fall.

The bones hit the ground and shattered, the mind and every part of the body of the demon destroyed.

I felt that I was floating; in a trance. I no longer thought, I just was. An extraordinary sense of freedom permeated my soul. I felt the wind on my back, not nearly as harsh as before.

There was a slight pressure around my wrist, and I felt my direction shifting.

My left side smacked against a hard surface, one that wasn't the ground.

"Ching." I woke from my trance and looked up to see my sister, once again dangling from a rope, holding my wrist, not willing to let me fall. "You're not going to die!" she declared.

"Hey, please save your chatting for later!" yelled Number Seven, who was bracing herself against a tower, struggling to hold onto the rope. "Otherwise, I'll be the one to die!"

We smiled at each other and began the long climb up.

At the top, we held a small celebration at the demon's defeat, but soon felt an overwhelming exhaustion, the adrenaline having worn off. We were all badly injured, and we took the ladders down to the ground very slowly. It was still smoking and misting from the wreckage we had caused.

I walked by Tung, examining my arm. It was almost certainly cracked, I decided, as Tung stumbled, from the gash in her stomach.

I grabbed her arm to help hold her up, then something dawned on me.

"Where's Number Seven?" I hadn't seen her since we had reached the ground.

"Here, put these on!" Number Seven came running from the side of the street. She was carrying a bundle of grayish navy cloths. "We don't want to look too shabby when the reporters come." She handed one to both of us. We laughed at her suggestion. Her face was almost brown with dirt. I had blood running down my neck, and both Tung and I had some dried stains from blood that dripped out of our mouth.

"Come on," she urged. "Put them on!" Tung shrugged, and all three of us whipped the huge triangular pieces of fabric around ourselves like cloaks, me being careful to try not to use my nearly broken left arm.

We strode down the street, putting on a show of victory for no one, in a triangular formation; Tung stood in front, while I stood a little behind and to the left, Number Seven, a little behind and to the right. We didn't encounter anyone on the way to Tung's apartment, and we were even quiet enough that her husband didn't even notice us until the morning.

Eighteen of the nineteen missing babies were recovered; only two babies were killed during the entire adventure. The police took partial credit for the recovery, Inspector Lau dubbing us the Heroic Trio. And we were esteemed heroes, even if we caused the city a lot of money to repair that block we had basically destroyed.

But none of that could ever have made up for you.


	10. Truths

**Bondage**  
by Nyohah

10  
**Truths**  
Fifth Day of Mortal Kombat

* * *

Syada_, _syada_, _syada_. What in the universe is _syada_?_ Mileena was still being bothered by this word. She knew what it meant, and she knew she knew what it meant, but she could not manage to bring it up out of the depths of her mind.

"...Outworld to Mileena!" yelled Shang Tsung.

She sat up suddenly, a little embarrassed that she had been daydreaming.

"Now that we're all awake, we can start. Reptile and Jax are out of the tournament; Johnny Cage has been killed. Scorpion, Kitana, Baraka, Kung Lao, and Raiden all only have one more chance. Sub-Zero has only been beaten once. After today's first fight either someone will no longer be in the tournament or someone will no longer be undefeated."

Liu Kang started to rise. "No," laughed Tsung. "This fight is between Baraka and Mileena."

Mileena and her new enemy had hardly reached the arena when Shao Kahn declared, "Fight!"

The mutant lunged at her with his arm-blades. Mileena flipped over him and kicked backward with one foot as she landed, slamming her heel into the back of his head. He fell flat on his face, and she ran toward him, lifting him up and leaning over backward, slamming him into the ground. She followed her throw with a sweep kick that knocked him off his feet, and an uppercut.

She began to pace toward Baraka. He rose quickly and, when she was in range, slashed at her neck with his blade. Mileena stepped further back along the blade's path, forcing the top of her right forearm into the bottom of his, holding it up. At the same time, she swung her left leg in a wide crescent until it ended up on top of the blade, where she slammed it to the ground with an axe kick. The blade snapped completely off Baraka's arm and he screamed in pain, though he—and the audience—wasn't sure what happened, as it had happened too fast for them to see.

Mileena spun around and forced Baraka away with a spinning side kick to the face. She flipped back, gaining herself some space, which she used to throw her sais at Baraka. He managed to dodge the left one, but the right impacted into his left shoulder, severing the muscles that allowed him to extend the blade he still had.

Once the threat to her throat's continued existence was gone, Mileena engaged herself in a semi-close quarters fight, smashing powerful kicks and punches into various parts of Baraka's body. As Baraka was beginning to lose the ability to concentrate on his opponent, Mileena twisted her body and hooked the side of her elbow into his cheek. She continued to spin, following the strike up with a backhand punch to the temple. Baraka fell and did not rise.

Mileena pulled off her mask. She leaned down and grabbed Baraka's stained shirt, wrenching him to his feet. She leaned forward, and to everyone's disgust planted a kiss the side of his bald head. She picked up one foot and bent it back toward her hip as something odd began to happen to Baraka. He seemed to shrink, and she sucked him up into her mouth. When he was completely gone, she turned around spit out his bones. She turned around and faced the audience.

Everyone stared at her. Shao Kahn forgot to declare her victory. At last, Shang Tsung spoke.

"Well," he said, obviously disturbed, "we'll take a twenty-minute break." He almost ran out of the arena, followed, more slowly, by Reptile and Shao Kahn.

Mileena walked up to the others. They all had wide-eyed stares of disbelief, staring at her. Jax recovered his voice first.

"You ate him."

"Hmm?"

"You ate him."

"No. Actually I didn't. Would you like me to explain?" All seven fighters nodded. "When I kissed him—and there was a reason for that but I don't feel like explaining—it looked like I sucked him up. But, actually, at that moment I was teleporting his bones away—that's why he kind of deformed. Then I teleported the rest of him where I had sent the bones—the middle of the wasteland—and brought his bones back, making it appear they came out of my mouth." She shrugged. "It's really not that difficult."

"What on earth, or Outworld, I guess, made you come up with a crazy idea like that?" asked Kung Lao. He never got his answer, for at that moment a flash of bright emerald came out of nowhere and landed on Liu Kang. It forced him to the ground, where he struggled with a dangerous-looking, dark-skinned female ninja with bronze fans. Jade had one of the fans aimed toward his throat, and as she swiped right, Liu Kang forced his right hand in the opposite direction, where he grabbed her by the wrist, holding the deadly fan away from his neck, and struggling to make her drop it.

Still pushing on the fan, Jade reached down toward another of the many stashed in her boots. Liu Kang likewise grabbed that wrist and shoved his foot into her stomach, rolling backward and flipping her away from him.

Kung Lao and Mileena each kicked a fan from her hand as she was standing back up. Jax caught her right wrist and twisted it behind her and up toward her shoulder, almost to the point of breaking. Kung Lao grabbed onto her other wrist and held it with a death grip. Mileena tried to get the other fans from her boot, but Jade's kicking feet prevented her, so she settled for grabbing one of her legs. The other kicked her in the soft spot under her chin, and broke her grip, sending her sprawling on her back, coughing.

A hooking kick connected with Kung Lao's stomach, and would have hurt a lot more if he hadn't seen it coming and started to duck. He still gripped her wrist with both hands.

Liu Kang and Raiden approached carefully to help, but Sub-Zero stopped them. He addressed Jax and Kung Lao. "Let go on my mark."

"Are you crazy?" asked Jax.

"Trust me," said the ninja, a little annoyed. "Three, two, one..." He crouched and released a blast of ice. "...Mark!" Jax and Lao let go, and the blast connected with Jade before she could move, freezing her.

Kitana suddenly came back from where she had been, though no one had noticed her absence, carrying some rope. As soon as the ice melted, eight warriors tackled Jade at once, pinning her down in a chair as Kitana and Raiden tied her to it, and Mileena finally was able to remove all her fans and set them aside.

Kitana addressed the very irate green ninja. "Jade, what are you doing?"

"Killing Liu Kang," she whispered.

"Pardon me if I'm wrong," said Mileena, "but wasn't it you who told me not to kill any warrior with good intentions for everyone's sake?"

Jade glared up at Mileena. "Shang Tsung ordered me to. Do you think I could just disobey him like nothing was going on?"

"Jade," said Kitana, "you're a person. You have just as much ability to disobey as any of the rest of us."

"No, I don't," she replied. "And no, I'm not."

"What are you saying?" asked Kitana, lowering herself into the chair next to Jade.

"I'm saying," she replied angrily, "that there are two people in this universe that I simply do not have the ability to disobey. One is Shang Tsung." She lowered her head. "The other is you, Princess."

Kitana looked at Jade in disbelief. Kung Lao asked the next question. "What is that other thing you were saying, about not being a person?"

"That's part of the reason I can't disobey them. I'm not an Edenian person. I'm..." Her voice began to quaver, like she was...crying? "I'm a...just a," she swallowed, and finally spit it out. "Kitana's clone." She choked and began to cry harder. "He took some of your genes. Kahn always thought you had a most marvelous heritage. He wanted more than just one of you. And Shang Tsung has this thing with cloning—he loves playing God." She looked up at Kitana, drops of salt water trailing from the corners of her eyes. "He changed me, a little. He darkened my skin to normal Edenian standards instead of your half Mandalorian, half light-skinned ancient Edenian royalty. He also changed my abilities, decided to give me intangibility and the almost non-existent actual, natural invisibility, not like Reptile's chameleon camouflage." She lowered her head down almost to her lap, covering her face. Her voice came out muffled when she spoke again. "The whole reason I'm here is to cheat; to keep the Earth warriors from winning at all costs—even murder."

Kitana didn't know what to think. Her best friend, her partner, her confidante, not real? A clone? An evil replica of nature created by Shang Tsung?

"I say we kill her," said Liu Kang. The others started to agree, all except Kung Lao and Sub-Zero, who wanted to make sure she couldn't hurt them, but not murder her, and Mileena, who had been in situations all too similar to not be able to look past the fact she was a clone to the truth—she had no choice. And if she really wanted to kill Liu Kang, she could have stayed invisible and simply decapitated him before anyone else could do anything about it.

Kitana was startled out of her reverie by their agreements to slit her throat. "No! You can't! She helped me."

"She tried to kill me," said Liu Kang.

"She had to! You heard her. She couldn't disobey Shang Tsung."

"How do you know? She could be lying."

Kitana sat there for a second. She stuck out her tongue and attempted to touch it to the tip of her nose, not successfully. Kung Lao raised an eyebrow at her unexpected behavior.

"Jade," said Kitana, "I order you to stick out your tongue and touch it to the tip of your nose."

Jade stuck her tongue and attempted to do so, falling short. For several minutes the others watched at the ninja attempted the simple feat, trying everything she could think of to stretch her tongue out longer. Eventually she began to strain against her ropes, so she might use her hands to assist her.

"Okay, Jade, you do not have to do this anymore." Kitana crossed her arms and legs and looked back to Liu Kang. "Satisfied? Good." She looked around, and when she determined that Reptile was nowhere in the area, she continued. "Jade helped me, as I said before. I got the rules to the tournament—the new ones that might have loopholes. I gave them to Jade, and she gave them to one of you."

"If Jade gave them to one of us," said Liu Kang, disgusted, "then where are they?"

"You don't have them?" asked Kitana, genuinely surprised. "Jade, you can't disobey me. Where are they?"

"I gave them to Smoke! I swear! I did it to give less of a trail back to you, Kitana. He was supposed to get it to one of them. Please believe me," Jade pleaded.

"I did see her give something to a gray Lin Kuei ninja when I was in the Living Forest for my fight with Sub-Zero," said Mileena, matter-of-factly.

"Smoke's here?" Sub-Zero said, and everyone was quite amazed at the volume of his voice, the loudest they'd ever heard it. "During our fight? And I missed him?" He slapped his palm against his forehead and sank down into his chair.

"I still say we kill her." Liu Kang was not amused, as most of the rest were.

"Liu Kang," said Kitana harshly, "Isn't it a rule on your planet 'innocent until proven guilty'? Well it was on Edenia, and I am not going to let you kill her until it is proven that she destroyed the rules."

"Kitana?" asked Jade, "How do you know that was a rule on Edenia? It was taken over when you were a year old!"

"Be quiet, Jade," she ordered, still glaring at Liu Kang.

"I would have to agree with you, Kitana," said Kung Lao, "and don't mind my friend here. He's a Fire elemental. It's the equivalent of a woman having PMS, except all the time."

"Well," said Mileena, "as long as we're having this whole confession session. I have one question to ask. Subby, what in the worlds happened to you? You are so much different than anything I've ever heard about you. What is going on?"

"Uh...that was two questions, Mileena."

"Shut up, Kung Lao." She turned and faced Sub-Zero again. He had his face buried in his hands.

"You know," he said, suddenly sitting up, "I wasn't actually expecting to get this far. It's not like we're really that much alike or anything. He's nine years older and almost eight centimeters taller than I am for crying out loud!"

"Who?"

"My older brother. The Sub-Zero who went to the last tournament."

"Do they name all brothers the same?" asked Kung Lao, wondering about this odd little detail.

"Actually, I think I'm the only brother of a Lin Kuei assassin who's also an assassin, but yeah, I guess if they were the same element and they couldn't think up a better name they might as well. Causes confusion."

"Yeah, to your mother," laughed Jax.

"Okay, sure, 'cause my mother named me 'Sub-Zero'." He rolled his eyes at Jax. "There's only one reason I agreed to come to this tournament." He turned and looked straight at Scorpion. "What happened to my brother?"

"Actually," said the former Shirai Ryu ninja, "I don't know. I defeated him in our match, and I was going to burn him up with the fire I can spit, but there was this huge flash and he seemed to absorb it, and it almost seemed to be replenishing him, and then he disappeared. There was another bright flash and there weren't any ashes or anything. I honestly don't know."


	11. Involuntary Reversion

**Bondage**  
by Nyohah

11  
**Involuntary Reversion**  
Letter to Yuan Li

* * *

There aren't many people left in this tournament anymore, only Kung Lao and Raiden, who already have two strikes, Sub-Zero, who has one, and Liu Kang and I. We're both undefeated, and I have a feeling it's planned to stay that way until everyone else is out.

Kung Lao beat Scorpion in a fairly close fight, the same with Raiden's victory over Kitana. Liu Kang beat Sub-Zero, and I believe he, as I, was quite impressed with his skill. That was a fight many would pay to watch.

I fought Baraka in the arena, in front of everyone and killed him, in probably a little over-elaborate way. Good riddance. Now if I could only get rid of that clone...

* * *

At this time, it is necessary to explain how I went from being part of Hong Kong's legendary super heroines, the Heroic Trio, to once again being the pawn of evil. I'm still not exactly sure what happened, but it goes something like this.

We were together for two months, myself, Tung, and Number Seven—or Chat, as I guess I should call her. That's what she named herself, other than Thief Catcher. Not a lot of imagination there, changing her named from Number Seven, in any language, to Seven in Cantonese.

For about a week I felt an amazing sense of relief, like I was suddenly cleansed of all evil. It didn't last very long. After that short period was up, I sensed a pressure coming back. It really wasn't the same kind I'd felt for so many years of bondage to the Master. It was worse.

I felt as if something had grabbed onto my soul and was playing tug of war against my will. My mind began to deteriorate, much like the Alzheimer's disease found in the elderly.

My health deteriorated also. This may have been partly due to the fact that I spent more than ten years in an atmosphere of concentrated methane. It may also have been contributed to by the amount I used the invisible robe.

But most of all, it seemed connected with the pulling I felt on my soul.

I was never well. I almost always felt cold and tired, only wanting to sleep, but when I did, I had the most horrible nightmares. They were nothing to do with my past, as they'd always been before. These were filled with demonic whispering, and grotesque rituals. It was nearly impossible to keep myself from screaming each night, even more so than it had been when I remembered falling. It was almost as though they were trying to terrify me into coming back, if only to make it stop...

I didn't tell my sister or Chat. They didn't know what was happening. Maybe if they had, they could have done something about it, or at least identified the problem. Tung was an expert on the ways of demons, the wise man having taught her all that he knew.

Two months after we had defeated the Master and freed ourselves, we helped the police on yet another case—the ninth in that period. I had far too much trouble forcing myself out of bed and preparing to fight. We were late because of me, and I really hadn't had much to do, only put on a black jumpsuit, boots, and gloves, tie back my hair and get out my new weapons. They were like Tung's blade, but about half the length, and I had two.

It was a terrorist attack, as usual. They had hostages, as usual. They were killing people until they got their way, as usual. The only thing unique about this job was the fact that I could barely stand.

I won't go into much detail on our struggle, mainly because I cannot remember it. I do know that many people died because of my sluggishness. Many more than what should have. We won, eventually, but at great costs.

When we returned, I immediately collapsed in my bed. My sister was finally alarmed at my behavior.

"Ching! What's wrong? Please tell me!" She kneeled by my bed, pleading. I had a vague sense of déjà vu, but I could not concentrate on why I felt this way. I couldn't even manage to focus on my sister's round face. I tried to tell her what was happening, but I could not speak. I could make noises, but I could not remember how to form words.

The world went black as my sister tried to revive me.

* * *

I'd felt this before.

There was the pain I'd felt just before I blacked out, but dulled. I felt violated, and every last bit of my sense of freedom had vanished. Had I died? Again?

Apparently so, as a voice said, "Welcome back to the land of the living." The sound was so familiar, charismatic and dignified, yet with a dark undertone. But I could not put my finger on who this was.

Whoever the man was who had spoken, he had spent considerably more power resurrecting me; the pain was not as severe, my muscles felt not in the least bit stiff, and the shoulder injury I'd suffered in my last fight was nowhere to be found.

I slowly opened my eyes, taking in the demonic runes of the limestone-tiled ceilings above me, the grotesque etchings of evil rituals and sacrifices.

I sat up on the stone slab I had been lying on, partly so I didn't have to look at the pictures on the ceiling. I drew my knees up to the bikini top I wore and wrapped my arms around them in a fetal position. There were silver cuffs on my wrists holding in place two pieces of cloth, rather like wings, that connected into a cape behind me, like some sort of vampiress. There were also silver bands on my ankles, showing out the sides of my very high-slit skirt. Everything was made out of a deep violet silk.

I directed my gaze up to the man standing in front of me. He was short, with dark black hair in a traditional Chinese braid underneath a plain black skullcap. He had a yellow patterned Chinese-style top, complete with frog buttons over black pants, and had the top also been black, it would have reminded me very much of a certain, oft-childish young scientist's favored fighting attire.

The image I watched speak to me brought no connection in my mind with the voice I heard, nothing to help me piece together this annoying little enigma. I had never seen this man before in my life.

"You don't seem happy to see me in the least, Mileena."

Finally, everything fit together. Shang Tsung had somehow become about four hundred years younger.

"My name," I croaked, my throat having dried out, apparently during the resurrection process, and not moistened again, "is Ching."

"Not anymore, it isn't," he said matter-of-factly. "You see, you're mine now. If the Master allowed you to think of yourself as Ching, so be it. Unfortunately, he has died. And so have you, in his service, no doubt, until the last."

I couldn't believe it. He didn't know I was the one who had actually destroyed the evil thing's mind? This was too good to be true.

"And he promised me some years ago," the sorcerer continued, "that when either he or you died, I had the right to resurrect you and you would be mine."

"What if he died and I didn't?" I asked.

"Well, that didn't happen, but if it had, then you would have been brought to me one way or another, even if it meant your death." Somehow, he hadn't noticed that was exactly what happened. But that was not all. "And being the opportunist that I am, I made sure that I could have you any way I wanted you. So you're Mileena. And you will be my wife."

My jaw nearly hit the floor. I tried to protest, my bottom lip quivering, but nothing came out, such was my shock.

"Not now, of course, not until after the tournament we're arranging. But eventually."

I slipped off the table, the limestone cool on my bare feet. The entire room looked exactly like the ceiling and it was really starting to disturb me.

"I really need to get back to Shao Kahn. Follow me," Tsung beckoned, "and I'll tell you everything you need to know while I show you around." I obeyed, stepping around a particularly evil looking symbol carved in the floor, the jagged looking edges of the stone not the only reason I wanted to avoid it. I fell into step with him, a few strides behind, as I always had with the Master. As we reached the door he looked back at me and admonished, "No, no, no, you may walk even with me. I do not care."

We left the room, and I briefly shuddered at a specific set of demon runes on the door, labeling its purpose. They were exactly as I'd seen many times in my sleep, and these dreams were not pleasant.

"This is Outworld," Tsung said, spreading his arms, applying his words to everything. "It's the base for Shao Kahn and me. I had to come here after my island was demolished. I lost Mortal Kombat to that miserable little cretin Liu Kang and for that reason he must die. My island was destroyed and I was killed. Your Master, also mine, had to quickly recreate the nexus point before Outworld fell apart, but he gave it to the Shokans instead of me," he gritted his teeth, nearly growling, then composed himself to continue.

"He resurrected me, and thankfully, gave me back my youth, and handed me over to Shao Kahn. Of course, Kahn then wanted to kill me very slowly and painfully. Somehow he'd managed to get a group of scarab beetles from Egypt, you know the kind that feed on flesh, and was going to have them eat me alive. I have to admit, he does have contacts...

"But I managed to convince him that we could arrange another tournament, with such a plan that even if we lost the tournament, we would still be helped along in our quest. And if we won? All the better, as we'd have rid ourselves of nearly every person who could possibly stop us, though, yes, we would still have to win nine more. That, unfortunately, I could not change.

"He liked my plan and spared my life, and voila, here we are." He pointed to a huge, carved, wooden door. "This is the throne room, where we'll meet Shao Kahn in a few minutes, but first I'd like to introduce you to Kitana and Jade." We continued a few steps until we came to a small training room.

Two women were sparring. They looked almost identical at first glimpse, even seeming to fight with mainly the same style. They were wearing plainly designed fighting uniforms, the traditional pants, and sporting another Chinese-style top, though theirs were overlapped, left over right, and fastened near the right shoulder. The woman with lighter skin and darker hair wore a deep blue uniform, and the one with browner hair and bronze skin, dark green.

Both appeared to be using a form of Wing Chun, using their opponent's momentum to make up for their disadvantage in size, out of habit, as it did not matter with this match. Closer observation revealed that the green-clad fighter was faster, possibly even as fast as I, though unlike me, she moved completely smoothly, keeping to the ground and circling, pulling her opponent off balance before striking them in a graceful movement, much as if dancing. I use my speed to dart in and out, rarely using any kind of holds, often jumping, putting more of a snap into my movements than she. This possibly makes my strikes more powerful, though she evades more than I, and it is quite hard to keep track of her, never stopping, never standing still.

The other fought also with Wing Chun, but more unusual about her, was the mix that she added to it, Karate or something similar, using more punches than kicks, again the opposite of I, and I do say I have never seen a woman punch more powerfully than this one.

I was astounded to see the complete lack of softened punches, and light contact strikes. Instead these two held back no power, striking each other fiercely, as though enemies, and there seemed to be no holding back, besides the seeming unspoken rule that neither attacked the face, protecting their quite remarkable beauty.

I watched the woman in green catch the blue fighter's next punch, stepping out of the intended path. She kept hold of her wrist and in a flash of amazingly quick movements, as though only habit, she twisted the other's arm and the woman in blue hit the ground in some sort of hold, seeming to be hybrid between several different styles and techniques.

They stood, respectfully bowing to each other before approaching us. Their resemblance was just as uncanny up close, but even more eerily, I resembled them far too much. I'm not sure why we look so much alike. No one has ever explained it to me. It still bothers me, but I've learned to live with it.

"The one in blue," commented Tsung, "is Princess Kitana, Shao Kahn's daughter. And Jade, of course, is in green. Girls," he addressed the others, "this is Mileena, the third of your group. Get to know her; you're going to work with her a lot. But later. First we must talk to Kahn."

We followed the blood-red carpet into a very large throne room. All the demonic symbols, all the decorations, even the structure of the room, directed your attention to one very wicked looking throne. On the seat sat a giant creature, resembling a man but far larger. His tawny skin was grotesquely distorted by the amount of lean muscle on his body. He wore a death's head mask on his face beneath a crown-like helmet. Spiked pads rested on his shoulders, as well as his knees above his shin guards, the tops of his hands, and around his thick wrists. Around his waist he wore a leather loincloth with a skull-head buckle, and the same image was repeated on the junction of the straps he wore around his chest in an _x_.

Shang Tsung nodded his head in a formal greeting. "My Lady Mileena," he said, "Your Emperor Shao Kahn."

I knelt before the giant figure, head bowed to the ground in a position of respect.

"Warrioress Mileena," began the emperor, "I assume you have heard of Mortal Kombat?"

"Yes, sir, if it is indeed the tournament that the fate of the Earth Realm depends on, originally conceived by Shang Tsung."

"It is, and you are to defend your Masters in the next tournament, held in a few months."

"Pardon me, your Highness, but didn't Mortal Kombat already occur for this generation?"

"Yes, but the worm of a being, Tsung, was defeated. But by taking the prisoners Lieutenant Sonya Blade and her enemy Kano, we have assured that our enemies will come to Outworld in an attempt to rescue her. But we have tied her freedom to a tournament, and therefore, Mortal Kombat will be fought again."

* * *

Not much happened at the meeting, just a bunch of formalities, and I was shown my room. It was huge. Seriously. Several families could probably live here. Who knows how many people could sleep in my bed (which, by the way, is filled with feathers and the sheets are silk), without even touching?

The floors are of the smoothest dark red wood, with rugs strewn about, some of which are probably priceless.

I wandered about my room, noticing the stocked closet out of the corner of my eye. I was pleased to find my own private training area, complete with a hanging bag and as much floor space as one could possibly need (unless of course they were trying to perform a marching band show in my room) (see how you've corrupted me!). And the bathroom was huge. You could swim laps in my tub. Honestly. Now they wouldn't be regulation length, but still.

I noticed a large mirror covering one wall, closet and the mirror. Nice, I thought, examining the perfect, flawless image given off by the ceiling-to-floor, scratch-less surface.

All in all, the place was beginning to make me feel even smaller than I already was. I sat on my bed, sinking into the consuming softness and wondering if it was possible to drown in a feather bed. Then, I remembered a little fact I'd learned about mirrors, and considering the attitude of my host thus far, I decided to experiment.

I scrutinized the huge mirror again, trying to think of its position and the correlation of the rooms around. I touched the tip of my finger up against the glass. It appeared to touch the tip of the reflection's finger. I made a mental note to avoid the mirror and sighed as I collapsed back into the bed.

I had barely had time for my muscles to relax before a light knock echoed from the door. I shuffled over to the door, dead-tired, nearly tripping over a fringed rug.

The woman who stood outside my door was nearly my reflection, only slightly taller and larger in build, and still wearing her blue fighting uniform. Kitana, was it?

"I just thought I'd see how you were doing, Mileena," she explained. I invited her in, and we sat cross-legged on my bed like two teenage girls at a sleepover. She looked around nervously for a few seconds, then glanced over at the mirror. "The mirror is..." she stumbled over the next word.

"Yeah, I know, it's a one-way. Shang Tsung..." I growled.

"And that's not all. I don't suppose you've taken a look at our uniforms yet."

"Aren't you wearing a uniform?"

"Well...no." She walked into my closet and pulled out a hangar. It held a skimpy purplish-pink leotard, long gloves, high boots, a headband and a mask. I stared in shock.

"How are we supposed to fight in that?"

"Very carefully." She hung it back in the closet. "Well, if you ever need anything, you can see me or Jade. In all reality our rooms aren't very far, in a triangular formation, separated by the long meeting hall for the Masters, where the mirrors lead in case you're wondering. You have to walk a long way, as the halls continue for a long time in each direction without an intersection. But if it's anything urgent, you can bang on the wall," she pointed right, "Over there for me, the other side for Jade." She walked back to the door. "I really ought to be going now."

"Thanks."

"Sure, no problem."

* * *

And so I became one of the silent three assassins of Outworld, along with Kitana and Jade, renowned for our beauty, skill, and viciousness in battle. Also the Warrioress Mileena, capable of leading strike forces against rebels in Outworld. It was I who conquered the mutants along with General Baraka and an army of Shokans. Needless to say, it would have been very hard to lose a battle with such an advantage, giant Shokans versus starving nomads.

And, of course, who could forget the Kombatant Mileena, dreaded in the fighting arena for her unmatched speed and notorious skill. All these things, due not completely to my talent, but largely to the influence of my number one admirer, Shang Tsung.

So here I am. Fighting in a bloodbath tournament. Supporting those I wish to destroy. Trying to remember more about my life Before.

And missing you. You never know how much you appreciate the effect that childish, if sometimes annoying, antics can have on improving a person's happiness, if only distracting one from the true unhappiness of their life.

Why did you have to die?

{small black dot}


	12. The Shock of Recognition

**Bondage**  
by Nyohah

12  
**The Shock of Recognition**  
Sixth Day of Mortal Kombat

* * *

Shang Tsung smiled. "Congratulations on your survival in this tournament—"

"But not everyone survived," protested Jax.

"But they're not here for me to congratulate. Now if we're done with all our interruptions, we might just get done with today's events." He looked around expectantly, waiting for someone's comment. "Thank the Master," he said when no one else spoke. "So what we have is Sub-Zero's victory over Kung Lao, disqualifying him from the tournament, and Liu Kang's victory over Raiden, doing the same. Our stats are, of course, Sub-Zero with two strikes, and Liu Kang and Mileena still undefeated. What suspense! Who will win? Will one die? Will one be maimed for life in a struggle that neither can afford to hold back in? It'll just have to wait for a while. Not even tomorrow."

Mileena lazily raised her hand. "I have an idea. How about we skip this nonsense and I fight you now."

Shang Tsung looked surprised, and a little confused. "What do you mean?" he asked suspiciously.

She pronounced her next words slowly and precisely, as though explaining something very simple to a small, mentally-challenged child. "I, Mileena, challenge you, Shang Tsung, to a one-on-one fight."

"You can't do that," he protested a little desperately. He turned to Shao Kahn. "Can she?"

Kahn seemed to ponder this, then it almost seemed as though a smile grew under his mask. "Actually, I think she can. She is undefeated, you know."

"But, but..." Shang Tsung's mouth moved, no audible arguments coming out.

"You aren't afraid of her, are you, sorcerer?" asked the emperor mockingly.

"Of course not." Shang Tsung straightened himself, flicked off his yellow jacket and strode into the arena. "Well, are you coming, Mileena?" he questioned, his ego impatient with its desire to protect itself. She flipped into the arena, landing lightly on both feet, and shifting into her fighting stance.

At Kahn's announcement to fight, Mileena again flipped forward. Tsung, expecting a kick, prepared to counter, but was caught off guard when she flipped past the point of attack and landed behind him, greeting his turning body with a swinging elbow and a spinning crescent kick. Tsung fell back, dropping to the ground and morphing into Johnny Cage.

This made no difference to Mileena. She swung her straight right leg in a crescent motion, first away from the other leg, then back toward, catching Cage-Tsung in the face with the side of her foot. Succumbing to her momentum, she jumped, spinning all the way around, attacking first with an inward crescent kick with the left leg, and then with another outward crescent kick from the right.

Recovering quickly, Cage-Tsung lunged forward, shoving the heel of his foot into Mileena's diaphragm, Cage's patented Shadow Kick. As was the risk with using such special powers, Mileena recovered more quickly than Cage-Tsung did, snapping the ball of her foot out three times from a side stance, first at his thigh, then kidneys, and finally head, connecting with all three roundhouse kicks. Not letting her advantage slip away, she swung her foot forward above his head, only to smash is backwards with a hooking heel kick to the side of Cage-Tsung's face which had not yet been kicked. Though at this time, he was so stunned he morphed back into his normal body, Mileena was not finished. Still not resting her foot on the ground, she pulled it in close to her body and shoved outward, forcing all her strength into Tsung's mouth with her heel, knocking free teeth and splitting open his lip.

He fell backward and backed away, crawling. Not trusting the sorcerer for a minute, not willing to let him regain his senses, nor needing a break herself, Mileena rushed forward, preparing to finish his beaten body off.

Then, as she was about to strike, without warning she froze, the trembling of her body the only visible movement. Grinning maliciously, Shang Tsung stood, flinging the blood from his split lip with the back of his hand. He landed one hooking punch, followed by an uppercut. Mileena fell to the ground, unable to move and therefore, unable to stand, and the necromancer laughed.

"That'll teach you never to mess with me. You're mine; you cannot betray me. I own you. I have complete control over you. Never try such a thing again," he whispered, his threatening words not heard by the others.

"Shang Tsung wins."

* * *

Mileena hung her head as she carefully stepped into Shang Tsung's room. "You summoned me?"

"Ah, Mileena." He relaxed in a large chair, arms crossed, a smug look on his face. The woman crossed over to him, staring at the rug under her feet. The other frowned. "Why the glum look? We still win." He laughed.

_Yes, but do I want you to win?_ thought Mileena, biting her lip so she would not blurt it out. Shang Tsung still didn't know she had killed the Master and wished Outworld's defeat.

"Well, we all want this tournament to be over already. We're not sure whether you can beat Liu Kang. Oh, you probably could at best form, but if you even sneezed or something minor like that, you might lose. It's a fight I wouldn't want to risk anything of value on. But there is a way that we will win immediately. You must kill an earth warrior."

_Just as Jade warned me._ "But Johnny Cage is already dead," she softly reminded him, hoping to free herself from this task, "Why must we kill another?"

"First of all, Cage isn't exactly prime for our needs; oh, he will work, just not as well, as he wasn't killed according to the rules. Secondly, this warrior is needed for a completely different reason. If you kill him, we automatically win. No more fighting. Done, end, over, finished."

"So you're saying I have to assassinate Liu Kang. Jade already tried that. It didn't work. He's never alone. Especially now."

"No, no, no, Mileena," he sighed, "you're not assassinating anyone. You're fighting—"

"But you said I might not be able to defeat Liu Kang."

"What makes you think you're fighting Liu Kang?" exploded Tsung, frustrated.

"He's the present Mortal Kombat Champion. Shouldn't I have to defeat him to win?"

"I have a better idea. Why defeat him, and then whoever else nine more times, when there is a person you can fight who will both give us the honorable blood we need, the right way, and win, even more than the tournament, for us."

"Isn't that against the rules?"

Shang Tsung smiled, the most wickedly happy smile Mileena had ever seen. "In this case it isn't. You will kill Sub-Zero. And we will win. And we will not even need our former plan anyway. And then you and I will be married. And everything will be very, very good."

* * *

Mileena stepped out of Shang Tsung's room and collapsed against the wall outside the door, inexplicably upset, balking at her orders. _Get up,_ she yelled at herself, and pushed away from the wall continuing down the hall.

She wandered for what seemed like hours, until she finally looked around to notice she was nowhere near her room, having taken a wrong turn somewhere.

Not even caring anymore, she threw herself against the wall and slid down, collapsing into a heap. After a few seconds of total thoughtlessness, she fell asleep, exhausted from the day's events.

An undeterminable time later she awoke, and after wondering at her surroundings, remembered why she was there. She had to kill Sub-Zero... Lifting her head, she brushed away the locks of hair that had fallen in her face as she'd rested her head on the cool tile floor. She looked down at the floor, examining her disheveled reflection in the shiny surface.

A drop of salty water dripped onto her hand. Another on the reflection's face, disrupting the image.

She could just lose, except that she would never allow herself to throw a fight. And oddly, the thought of Earth being conquered, or even something worse than that, was not as unappealing as the thought of killing Sub-Zero.

And she didn't know why.

_What's wrong with me? He's my enemy. So he's kind of cute, all shy and stuff, and he did give me a present, but he's hardly Yuan!_ She gritted her teeth and violently threw her head back against the wall, welcoming the pain as at least she knew what this wave was from. _Pull yourself together, Ching._

She rubbed at her eyes, trying to stop the tears. And then she saw a flash of color. She traced the painted canvas, past the bottom border of Mandalorian scripts, into the portrait.

A woman stood in a fighting stance, one leg stretched out behind her, the other bent. She wore tight black pants and a white, sleeveless top. Camouflaged with the pants were the almost knee-high black boots she wore. A small pin was emphasized on her right shoulder, almost seeming to gleam. Her jet-black hair was in two long, thin braids. The arm farthest away from the artist was upraised, holding a short, bright-blue blade of some sort; the artist had perhaps tried to make it seem as though it was...glowing? The other hand held a similar blade, but straight out from her body, forming a line parallel to the ground. Despite the fact that the woman was facing right, her head was turned so she just barely missed facing the artist.

Along the top were huge Mandalorian characters, much larger than the others, and she wished she could read them. In a smaller image in the bottom the woman was wearing a pure white, hooded dress, with a Mandarin collar, for unimaginable reasons.

But these were not the things that almost stopped Mileena from breathing. The woman was nearly a mirror image of herself. The portrait was large enough, and the artist talented enough, that this was manifest. The only apparent differences were the color of the woman's eyes, as one was a dark blue, and the other a teal, and the fact that she had no long bangs drifting across her face.

Mileena stared at the image for many minutes. First she thought she had stumbled across a portrait of Kitana's mother, but then she would have been wearing something a little more stately, wouldn't she? Besides, she could barely see a picture of the Mandalorian Queen farther down the hall. Somehow, she'd stumbled into the gallery of Mandalorian paintings, the area that mocked the fallen leaders of their civilization as it depicted their most sacred images.

It had seemed as if Shang Tsung had cut short his tale of the 'scum,' possibly not wanting Mileena to see her elder duplicate.

Finally, she rose. She slowly exited the gallery, not having the energy or will to even lift her feet.

Before she even reached her room, Mileena had decided what she must do. She'd tried this before, but this time, she had the motivation to do it herself.

But first, she must finish her tale.

* * *

Dressed in her white wedding dress, her raven hair wrapped in a short, wide bun that hugged her head, the woman sometimes known as Mileena hurriedly finished her letter. She wrote the last words to the person she had loved, and loved still, and paused, her pen set on the line after the very last, not sure how she should sign it, not knowing her full name, and 'Ching' not sounding serious enough for her attitude.

_It doesn't matter,_ she finally decided, _He's not going to get it anyway._

She very carefully closed the red leather book, so she would not smudge the last bit. Gathering the extra fabric of her dress, she rose, approaching a small wooden table. She opened the black case on the table and pushed away the layer of purple velvet from one side of the case, revealing a gleaming silver sai. Carefully, as though holding a small child, Mileena lifted the sai from its resting-place and placed against her index finger, testing its point. A small drop of blood dripped from her fingertip and ran down the slick surface of her white skirt, as she sank to an empty spot on the smooth wooden floor, away from any expensive rugs, rugs that might have been precious heirlooms of conquered societies.

She positioned the tip of the blade just under her left breast, gripped the leather handle of the weapon tightly, and took one deep breath, preparing to plunge it through her heart.

"They're going to kill him anyway."

Mileena opened her eyes, looking toward the doorway, where a tall, thin man in a gray Lin Kuei uniform stood. He casually leaned against the doorframe, the scroll given to him by Jade and a mysterious envelope tucked into his belt.

"What do you know?" she retorted, internal pain straining her voice.

"Some," he said, not moving from his position. "For instance, if you kill yourself, they'll simply resurrect you again. You can't win. They'll kill him anyway, just differently. And they'll probably kill you too, forever, but do you really want your quest to end your life to end his, as you'll still be killing him, if indirectly."

"Why should I care about him?"

"If you don't, why are you committing suicide?"

"I'm being forced to marry an evil creature. Is that not reason enough?"

"That's not until after the tournament, unless I'm mistaken. Why are you lying to yourself?"

"Why are you bothering me?" cried Mileena, losing control. Her hands were shaking tremendously, and she barely flinched in pain, as she felt her knife puncture her skin.

Seeing this, the gray ninja finally moved, slowly walking toward the woman until he was very close. He squatted down next to her and gently took the sai from her hand. Surprisingly, the female ninja did not resist.

"Because you look exactly like your mother," he said at last, "_Lietei_..."

"Wha..." Mileena trailed off, cowering away from the ninja as a different, yet strangely similar scene entered her head unbidden.

The raven-haired girl stared at a tall thin man in a gray ninja's uniform, instructing the adolescent boy he spent all his efforts on. "Daddy?" she murmured.

The ninja spun, startled to see the little girl, and even more surprised that she could tell who he was underneath his mask. He sank to the floor in a cross-legged position and pulled her into his lap. "What are you doing here, _lietei_?" he said, using his pet name for his younger daughter.

"Why are you wearing that?" She reached up and pulled off his mask, disliking the sight of it by instinct.

"I have to, Ching. How did you get away from Her Ri—Mi—Mrs. Li?" He stuttered, used to calling his babysitter something different.

"I climbed out the window," she shrugged as if it were nothing. "I wanted to know where you went. Why do you always go away every night? I wish you would stay."

"I wish I could. I really do. Now you go on back to the Lis' house, okay? _Syada_."

Suddenly, Mileena jolted herself out of the flashback. "That's it," she whispered to herself.

"Hmm?" Smoke looked slightly confused.

"_Syada_. It means 'I love you,' doesn't it?"

"Well, yes... Why?"

She pointed over to a small shelf where a miniature gargoyle sat. "It's carved into the bottom of that."

Smoke looked at it, and recognizing it, slowly shook his head. "Strange child..."

"What?"

"Nothing, nothing you need to know...yet," he added under his breath. He reached over to her, brushing the stray hairs from her face. "The resemblance is truly uncanny."

"What happened to my mother?"

"Well, six months after you were born, I—we—umm..." The ninja stared at the ceiling, searching for words. Then he pulled the envelope from his belt. "Maybe this will explain it better."

Mileena slowly took the paper. It was very old, soft. Three strokes of the graceful Mandalorian script adorned the front. She carefully opened the envelope, noting that it had never been opened before; someone was saving it for her. The note inside was, too, written in the smooth characters. She gazed at it for several seconds, biting her lip.

"I can't read this," she whispered, handing it back to the gray ninja.

He took it from her, setting the sai he had been holding down beside him, and breathing deeply, began to read the aged letter to her. 

_Hua Ching Sa, my beautiful baby daughter—_

_I am hoping that you will never have to read this, that I can throw it away when we return to Mandalore. I am hoping that I will be right by you when your first tooth comes in, when you lose the first one. I am hoping that I will be right by you to braid your hair for your wedding. I am hoping you will be right beside me to kiss me one last time before I die of old age. But every instinct in my mind tells me this is not to be._

_I have always been blessed with the psychic gift. And I had a dream last night. First you must know that while I am writing this, we Mandalorians have just finished with a war. We are negotiating the peace treaties, and everything is going well, except for a small clan of rebels, but they are few, and our allies have become great._

_My dream was a warning. It almost seemed to be telling me that I mustn't protect the queen for my own safety. Yet I cannot do this. I have pledged to protect Her Righteousness. She is not only our beloved ruler; she is my best friend, and the person who has always been kindest to me. She had never looked up on me as a slave, always as a person, a friend._

_Maybe you do not remember in your time the burden that was the suffix of Sa, the suffix of the slaves. I am hoping that my efforts, the efforts of the other freed slave in the Honor Guard, and the many in the army, and even diplomatic corps, have already made Sa a title to be proud of. In case they haven't, dear daughter, I have bestowed my namesake unto you._

_I only ask two things of you, Ching. The first is that you work your hardest on glorifying the name of Sa in recompense of all the atrocities done to those carrying it before my adulthood. The second is very important. Serve your Creator with all your heart, body, mind, and soul. Destroy the evil you see. Do not let others drive you from the righteous course._

_I've lied to you. There is a third thing, and I do not have time to start over. I find it hard to apply this last instruction to you, as I am watching your tiny form sleep not far from the table I write this on. But it is also very important, possibly more important than the first (never the second, it should have been first). If you find true love, you mustn't let it get away from you. Devote yourself to tracking it down if you brush against it. If your soul mate must travel far away, follow him. Give up everything if you must. You will not regret it. If you lose him, you will, for the rest of eternity._

_I was lucky that my match had a similar goal in mind for his life, and that I could pursue mine alongside him. My husband is also an Honor Guard._

_Sweet child, if I do not survive these next few days, I am trusting your father will save this for you. I do not feel a need to write to your older sister. I feel you will be far more important eventually; I do not know why. Your father and I both know that you are mostly likely the two prophesied girls who can delay the evil, but that should make you equal in importance. This is a fact that confuses me, but do take care of your sister. Let no harm come to her._

_This has been a most horrible war. I can only hope it is over. I feel otherwise._

_Please heed these things I have written to you. I love you, Hua Ching Sa._

"In...truth..." Smoke began to choke, fighting back the tears forming from the painful memories of his late wife.

"She died just as she thought she would, didn't she?" whispered Mileena.

"Yes. She had the most reliable warning anyone could ever have—a warning from our Creator—and yet she still had to protect the Queen. Not because anyone would have condemned her if she hadn't, but because her personal honor would not allow her to sit back and watch while anyone suffered needlessly." He looked to see Mileena shiver uncomfortably. "Are you all right?"

"I'm just, a little...shocked from everything. You know...I lost you so many years ago, and for you to just show up... It doesn't seem right."

Her father sighed. "Yes, well, it's not over yet." He stood. "I'm going to try and find him."

"Who?" asked Mileena, but her father had already gone.

Leaning against the wall just outside Mileena's door, Sub-Zero watched as Smoke stepped out, and walked away, not even noticing him.

He bit the inside of cheek and stepped in.

"What are you doing here?" asked Mileena, harshly.

"I just...came to say hi...Ching."

She sharply retreated. Wrapping her arms around her legs and cowering, she whispered, "How do you...know my name?"

He reached toward his mask, then stopped, his hand wavering at chin level. He began to drop it, then looked down at her again; even terrified, she was so gorgeous, and he knew he had to do something... He closed his eyes again, took one deep breath, and swiftly, so he could not again hesitate, swept off the mask and hood.

Mileena screamed.

His eyes widened in fear, apprehensive of who might hear and decide to investigate, and he dropped to the ground, slapping his hand over her mouth to smother her cry. "Ching, please, don't be upset. It's okay. Calm down." He slowly released his grip on her.

She scuttled away from him, pushing herself up by the table. "You're dead," she whispered. Then louder, "You're dead. I watched you die!"

"Ching..." He held out one hand, slowly advancing, almost as one would approach a spooked horse.

She frantically launched a wild kick in his direction, forcing him to lean away, nearly falling from the momentum. He continued to stumble backwards, and watched as she sank back to the ground, sobbing in terror. He too, sat, his head hung low in defeat.

All this way for nothing...his brother dead...the second chance he would have never thought possible, and that he'd been so elated to find...a hysterical, disbelieving mess.

Closing his eyes in sorrow, he dropped his left hand to the ground, dragging the tips of his fingers...until a sharp prick made him instinctively jerk away. A small crimson dropped oozed from his index finger, and he could see the short red line forming across the skin. He stuck it in his mouth, the salty taste of blood coating his tongue, and glanced at the floor.

A gleaming metal sai lie there. Blood adorned the tip, dried; his own fresh blood was barely visible along one side.

He picked it up, forgetting his cut finger, and for the first time noticed the streak of red running down Mileena's otherwise perfectly white dress. He knew immediately what had happened. This could not continue.

But how? He glanced around the room, hoping for inspiration. A small red book was on the bed, a case on the table, the closet half open, revealed violet silk dresses, all of different cuts, and there was a shelf on the wall, containing a miniature gargoyle—his gargoyle—and a pot of flowers. He smiled at the thought that Ching had liked his present enough to place it on that nice shelf, alongside the flowers.

Flowers...

"Ching," he began, setting down the sai and cocking his head toward her, "Do you remember the flowers?"

She turned her head, brushing her hair out of her face and roughly rubbing her red eyes. "They're dead," she answered bluntly, "As are you."

"I'm not dead. And neither are the flowers."

"Yes they are," she argued tenaciously, "I left them in the lab without water. It's been a year."

"Okay, so they are now. But that'll be the second time, remember?"

Mileena inhaled sharply. "You did it, didn't you. You resurrected the flowers... Yuan, you resurrected yourself..."

"That's not possible, and technically, no. I wasn't ever dead. The flowers were, but plants are quite a bit different from animals, even in cell structure, there's several differences... I was almost dead. I knew I had no chance. So I thought, why not? Hey, it worked, didn't it? I was still alive—barely—when they found me..."

"You were dead," she stated, emphasizing each word clearly, "You were not breathing."

"Well, maybe there was some act of God, some miracle that helped me first, but what I did to myself did help, at least some... I don't know... Maybe you were supposed to think I was dead..." He shook his head, "Oh, never mind..."

"No, Yuan, you might be right. I would have stayed, and if I hadn't helped Tung and Number Seven... Look, they were about to die when I arrived. I am the one who killed the Master...and maybe I wouldn't have been able to if I hadn't thought you were..." She trailed off.

Sub-Zero forced a smile. "See? It was all for the best."

"You idiot!" Mileena's sudden outburst was accompanied with an open-handed slap that sent Sub-Zero sprawling on the floor. "How can you say that? I died that day! On the inside, if not the out. Do you know what I had to live for? Revenge. And then the amazing sense of freedom for the first time in a decade and a half. But even that didn't last very long."

"I didn't mean it that way," he assured her, mellowed. "I was just trying to cheer you up. I mean, I'm even less of a serious person that before. I've just learned to treat things lightly in order not to upset people. You know, after spending three months confined to my bed, and another two without being able to do anything athletic lest I cough up blood—I still do sometimes. It's not very fun," he added casually, shaking his head almost in jest.

"I think I get it now. You were like this before, but not about having consumption." She shook her head, trying not to laugh at his reaction.

"Consumption!" He clapped his hands. "Funny medical problems! I'm all about things like that."

"Yeah, which friend was it, 'I don't know what I have, and I don't know what Scurvy is, therefore, I have Scurvy.'"

"Oh, that was Yen Mu Lan. She's great fun. She's my other half, the person who taught me to interact with people, and who makes me talk. If it's me and Ying, very little talking."

"I wish I had any concept of who these people were. I never really had any real friends." Mileena half-smiled. "You seem to have great friends."

"Oh, yeah, but I don't have many. Romping about High School your second year proclaiming 'Calculus is easy' to anyone and everyone when many of the fourth year students are only in Trigonometry—a year before Calculus—is not a very good way to make friends," he admitted. "But I have a few good friends, all back home."

He looked back down at the ground, and softly added, "You know, your sister came back to Yanxubin, to visit your father, and she told me that you had died. I was still in bed then; I was not happy. I'm lucky I have such great friends. I don't know what I would have done."

Mileena rubbed her temples, her head hurting now that she had been crying, and then it hit her. "You live in the same town as my father?"

"Yeah...all Lin Kuei live in Yanxubin. One girl's boyfriend got killed the day before she graduated—"

"And he didn't just move there. And you have an older brother, a much older brother whom my father trained. And your family's name is Li."

"Of course." He looked confused. "What does this have to with anything?"

"I just remember you from when you were little."

"Oh...that's bad... I wasn't too great—"

"I have to say the late beginning was worth the result."

Suddenly, the door opened, and in walked Smoke, carrying a very large mug of water. At the sight of his younger protégé, he shook his head. "I knew it. I look everywhere for you, and where are you? Right where I started from." He set the water down in front of Subby.

"Well, you walked right by me." He picked up the water.

"Did you get enough?" asked Mileena sarcastically.

"Well, in all reality, I'm not sure," Smoke replied. "He did drink two liters of water in an hour once." Yuan nodded his head in agreement, gulping water at the same time. "It didn't help that we were on a bus trip to Beijing at the time," added the eldest.

Mileena sighed. "For a genius, you sure are an idiot." Yuan shrugged, still drinking from his glass. She watched him for a few more seconds before stressing, "Breathe, child."

He did. "What makes you think you have to right to call me 'child?'"

"The fact that you're four years younger than I am." She patted him on the head. He glared at her half-heartedly, and she turned back to Smoke. "And why do they call you Smoke?"

"Because when I use my powers I emit smoke rings."

"Can you turn them colors and make designs?"

"Sure. I write my name a lot."

The younger ninja looked surprised, "Really? How come I don't know this?"

Mileena slapped her hand to her forehead. "For a genius you sure are an idiot."

"Didn't we already establish that fact? Besides, gullibility is not the same as stupidity."

"Yes it is."

Smoke cleared his throat. "You know, maybe the time has come to start being serious. What do you say?"

"Well, if you must," grumbled Yuan. "Shoot."

Smoke pulled a small scroll from his belt. "Yuan, you're the smartest one in this tournament, you get to analyze this. Find anything you can that will help us. Ching, I'm going to show you how to resist Shang Tsung's control over you. You'll have to challenge him again tomorrow, somehow. We only have a few hours. May our Creator help us in our quest. We'll never do it without His help."


	13. Rules of the Game

**Bondage**  
by Nyohah

13  
**Rules of the Game**  
Seventh Day of Mortal Kombat

* * *

Spotless white walls reflected images of families without hope, nurses scurrying about, doctors breaking bad news to their patient's loved ones. The atmosphere felt of sickness and sorrow. This was a section of the hospital that filled one with dread, reserved for those who had only the slightest chance of survival.

In the corner of one room, a woman in a simple white dress rested her head on a table. Her thick black braid was slowly unraveling, a glass of water sat by, untouched.

Smoke was unsure if she was sleeping, dozing, or if she had run out of tears and the will to move. He hadn't seen her so despairing since The Fleeing.

Her younger son was in this cursed section of the hospital, his chance of survival stated by the most knowledgeable doctors to be somewhere in the area of approximately zero. Yuan was only five, his mother's precious baby. It was a shame to see any young person's life wilting away, and they'd had such high hopes for the boy, especially if his rising brother's talent was any kind of indicator of what the child was capable of. Yuan had also proved himself to be unusually intelligent. He rarely spoke; in fact, he had been nearly four before even Smoke was sure if the boy _could_ talk, but everything he did say amazed those who heard him with its originality and rationality.

Unfortunately, the fact that the boy was so much different than everyone else had also caused the others in town to fear and dislike him, spreading rumors that he was 'not all there'. Of course, it hadn't helped that his parents were not very well liked people, his mother especially...

She refused to let him go, though everyone else accepted that the boy would surely die. She had barely left his side for a moment, for the months since he'd first fallen ill. The woman's husband had left Smoke behind to watch over them, meaning more his wife than his son, as he had a job to attend to. He caught himself staring at the disheveled woman—so much like his wife, and yet, so very not her. He missed her incredibly, as he did his daughters...

Smoke glanced over to the bed. The child lay there, very small, and very pale, sleeping, with numerous wires trailing from his curled body, monitoring his heart, and an oxygen mask helping him to breathe with his damaged lungs. Smoke felt disheartened looking at him. They'd had such high hopes for Yuan, and even if the boy did somehow survive this, he would probably never be truly well again...

* * *

Smoke gradually became aware of the soft bed he was lying on, the unyielding hospital chair of the past fading away.

He forced himself out of bed; they had a lot of work to do. A slight woman was still sleeping on the opposite side of the bed, and, his brain still foggy from sleep, it took him a moment to realize this was his daughter, not his long-lost wife.

Yuan had been elected to sleep on the couch. He was also still asleep—hanging more off the couch than on it. He had always been a strange child.

Looking at the young ninja, Smoke's thoughts turned back to the odd flashback he'd had for a dream. How the boy had survived was a mystery. One day, his condition miraculously began improving. He was back home within a month. Of course, he'd also survived the robe's poisoning in Hong Kong somehow, and Smoke would not believe for a minute that he did it all with whatever formula he'd discovered as he claimed. An Act of God, perhaps. But why? "Are you trying to tell me something?" he asked aloud.

"Did you say something?" Yuan looked up sleepily, and his slight shift of balance caused him to topple off the couch, thudding on the floor, where he sat for a few seconds, still more asleep than awake.

"You might as well get up now," Smoke said.

Yuan made a face and placed his hand on his rib cage. He coughed, closing his eyes in pain. "Why'd you have to wake me up?" He began to cough more violently as he all but ran to the bathroom.

"What's he doing?" asked Ching from behind her father, startling him.

"He doesn't want to get blood on your floor."

"And here I thought he was exaggerating."

"His lungs were never very healthy since he was sick as a child, and while he had gotten a lot better by the time he graduated from high school—and you met him—the robe's poisoning only made it worse than it had ever been." He shook his head, trying to clear the thought that he was missing something, and then changed the subject. "Are you clear on blocking necromantic power, or shall we go over it again?"

"More practice never hurt anyone," Ching conceded, and they headed for the training room. Smoke began to again outline the necessary mental techniques needed in order to resist Shang Tsung's power, and help to perfect the Mandalorian stances and movements that helped get one into the right mind set, though they weren't necessary after mastery of the techniques.

Sometime later, Yuan entered, still pressing his arm against his rib cage and again using his inhaler. "I seem to be having a rather wretched respiratory day," he announced, hardly fazed by his pain. "Having fun?" he asked Ching.

"It's actually rather calming," she said, stretching her leg up in front of her.

"Yeah, it's kind of like Tai Chi."

"It's a lot like Tai Chi," agreed Ching.

"Battle Tai Chi," said Yuan and he began to do the traditional style at triple speed.

"Can't you be normal for once in your life?"

The ninja stopped. "But normal is boring." Then he winced and sank to the ground. "It's a good thing this didn't happen until a day I didn't have to fight. I probably would have choked on my own blood or something in the middle of a match, and then Shang Tsung would get mad again because I died without being bea—"

"Okay. That's enough." Ching switched positions, widening her stance and raising one arm. Smoke patiently corrected her. "So what do you usually do on days like this?"

"Not much. My mom gives me a hug and I sleep if I'm in a place that I can."

"You act like such a child sometimes."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"I don't really know." As she spun like a dancer and raised one leg up behind her, she lost her balance and nearly fell.

Smoke scolded, "_Concentration_."

* * *

Liu Kang crossed his arms with disdain. "Well Kitana, it seems your clone is not as reliable as she claims to be."

"Jade would never betray us." Kitana narrowed her eyes, meeting Kang's glare.

They had been at it for nearly an hour. Kung Lao was beginning to worry that there was going to be an unscheduled fight that day. Jade was sitting in the corner, her head down, completely lifeless. She hadn't moved, throughout all of Liu Kang's veiled insults, or Kitana's increasingly irate replies. If only this Smoke would show up. With the rules.

Interrupting fights and thoughts, an unfamiliar person walked in. He was Oriental, dressed in a nondescript Mandarin style black fighting outfit. He sat by Kung Lao, who gave him a strange look before commenting. "Do I know you?"

"I'm hurt," he protested, melodramatically scrunching up his face. "All I am to you is a walking ninja's uniform."

"Sub-Zero?"

"'Tis I."

"Why aren't you wearing your uniform?" Kung Lao continued.

"Am I not allowed to change my clothes? Besides I got sick of that uniform. I don't even like being Lin Kuei."

"You shouldn't declare that to the world," said Ching walking into the arena, "It might get out and then you'll have you and your family's lives to worry about."

Yuan smiled at her sudden appearance. "Where's your dad?" he asked noticing, Smoke's absence.

"He doesn't want _them_ to know he's here." With a nod of her head she indicated Shang Tsung and Shao Kahn, who seemed to be arguing on the opposite side of the arena.

Ching sat beside Yuan. "Looks like you can sleep now if you're still not feeling well. It doesn't look like they'll be over here anytime soon."

Taking her advice, Yuan shifted his weight, sliding further down in his seat, trying to get at least semi-comfortable. "Ow!" He sat back up again, and pulled a scroll from his waistband, rubbing his lower back.

"Is that...?" Kitana jumped up, snatching the document from Yuan's startled grasp. She unrolled it excitedly, then shouted, "It is!" and shoved the scroll under Liu Kang's nose. "The rules," she declared triumphantly.

Ching turned in her seat, incredulous. "You haven't even given them the rules yet?"

"No," he said quietly. "I forgot. I'm expending all my energy on trying to breathe here. Forgive me?"

"I suppose. Kitana?"

"You got this from Smoke, right?" She still clenched the scroll.

"Yeah. He is, after all, my teacher."

"Well, then, I know someone who has much more need to apologize than you." She glowered at Liu Kang, then beckoned to her right. "Jade, come here."

The green-clad woman unfolded herself, and brushing her long dark hair from her face, joined Kitana. "Now, I think you owe her an apology," said the princess.

"This is insane!" Liu Kang declared.

"All in favor say 'aye'," offered Kung Lao. Everyone did.

The Chosen One gritted his teeth. He was not used to being forced into things. "I'm sorry, Jade. I should have had more faith in you."

"See now, that wasn't so hard." Kitana gave the rules back to Yuan. "I guess you might want this back."

"Yeah, it might help in a few minutes."

"I take it you have a plan, and need to review the rules some more before Tsung gets here."

"Does this mean I can't sleep?"

* * *

When Tsung and Kahn finally stopped arguing and started the tournament, they were nearly an hour late. Ignoring the fighters' resenting looks, he started the day with his usual annoyingly happy tone. "Today, we will have a rematch between Sub-Zero and Liu Kang, in the hope of eliminating one last fighter—"

"No." Yuan corrected him. "We will be having a rematch between you and Ching."

Shang Tsung looked dismayed. "You can't do that..." he protested weakly.

Kung Lao voiced his and the others' confusion. "Who's Ching?"

Ignoring him, Yuan held the scroll up for the sorcerer to see. "This look familiar? We can do that. You used power in excess. That is not allowed; therefore, she gets a rematch."

"Tsung, you idiot!" shouted Emperor Kahn. "You've ruined our plans for the last time!"

"Who are you to judge what is excess power?" argued the necromancer, beginning to sweat with the fear of what Kahn was going to do to him if he didn't fix this.

"It is stated very clearly in this document that anything that will affect an opponent for more than ten seconds can only be used after having beaten the person into or nearly into unconsciousness. Ching was hardly losing consciousness. You had landed a single kick. To the stomach. She was clearly winning. You had no right to use controlling power. You owe her a rematch."

Suddenly Tsung's face acquired a sly grin. "Very well." He stepped into the arena.

Ching stood, and quietly conversed with Yuan. "Don't you think he gave up rather easily?"

"Yes, but if he's willing to fight, you can beat him in a normal match. I know you can."

Ching joined Tsung, but instead of taking up a fighting stance, he called across to a doorway. "Mileena, you can come in now."

Yuan watched with growing alarm as an identical copy of Ching entered, her outfit pink, and that seeming to be the only difference. "What do you think you're doing?" he shouted, standing.

"I'm exercising my right to substitute a willing ally in for myself," Shang Tsung stated.

"You can't do that!"

"Why, you must have missed something when you examined those rules. Yes. I can. It is stated very clearly that as a former champion of the Mortal Kombat tournament, I have the right to exchange myself with that of an untried fighter, but only once in a tournament. It's been in the rules for ages, but trusting in someone who has never before set foot in a fighting ring is usually not considered very intelligent."

Yuan unrolled the precious document and found the passage the sorcerer was referring to. "Bloody 'ell," he whispered, only half to the sorcerer. "We had you beat, and you knew it."

Ching was frightened. After so many years of fighting, she believed she knew her own weaknesses well enough, but she also knew the talent Shang Tsung had for 'improving' his clones over the original versions. Jade was undeniable proof—Kitana, a superb fighter in her own right, had never defeated her.

Yet it wasn't only the thought that she might not be able to defeat her clone that caused her fear. Seeing this duplicate of hers—a real duplicate, artificially created, not merely an uncanny resemblance such as Kitana—was disconcerting at the very least. As she watched the woman, if, with its mutant face, it could be called a woman, standing with the same posture as herself, observing her surroundings in the same manner, she wondered how Kitana could stand to be in the same area as Jade. But Jade had always seemed to be so much different from Kitana in everything except appearance...

Hadn't Yuan once said that the only way someone could have an exact duplicate of themselves was if the same people had raised the clone, treated it in the same manner, it had experienced the exact same things? Perhaps the years of Jade's different treatment than Kitana had caused her to develop into such a different person. Kitana the princess, Jade the assassin.

Kahn bellowed the order to fight, and both Ching and her clone flipped forward, preparing to kick, but passing each other in midair. Ching landed on the opposite side of the arena as her clone, caught off guard by its identical start, but dismissing the unlikely occurrence as the clone approached her, she aimed a high kick at it. The clone ducked under the kick and spun behind Ching, wrapping its arm around the other woman's throat.

As quickly as the clone had moved, Ching forgot her shock at its unexpected maneuver, a technique she wouldn't have used. Her suspicion that the clone had been taught in different styles, from different people as herself, confirmed, Ching swung her leg up, kicking the clone in the face. As it stumbled back, she spun around, using her momentum to give more power to a backhand, and facing the clone, she jammed her fingers into its throat.

Feinting a fall, the clone dropped to the ground and swept Ching off her feet. As she hit the ground on her back she threw her legs up before the clone could recover, kicking it in the chin as she rolled backward into a handstand, and continuing the motion into a series of back hand springs that led her far enough away from her opponent for a second of rest.

Using her distance to her advantage, she jumped and threw her sais, then dropped into a forward roll, propelling herself along with the force of wind. The clone, able to neither jump nor duck safely, chose to avoid the steel blades by stooping slightly, but was knocked into the air as Ching's curled body violently collided with her shins.

Standing immediately after hitting the clone, Ching jumped forward and landed an aerial kick on the clone's chest. The clone stood quickly, managing to duck under Ching's jumping spin kick, countering it with an uppercut of its own.

Ching hit the ground flat on her back, coughing as she rose to her knees, feeling dizzy after her bad landing. She stayed on her knees, facing almost completely away from her opponent, faking more injury than she felt, and also enjoying the breather. Looking through the sheet of black hair that veiled her sight and kept her opponent from being able to determine the angle of her head, she saw the clone cautiously approaching. As it lifted its right leg in the beginning of an axe kick, Ching slammed her leg up and out behind her, into the clone's stomach. It doubled over in pain, the air knocked out of it, while the axe kick barely connected with Ching's back. Ching then stood and smashed her elbow onto the base of the clone's neck.

The clone fell and did not rise for a few seconds. Ching reached down and pulled it up by the fabric of its fighting garb. It was still breathing, raggedly, and was heavily stunned. Looking at its face, the eyes identical to hers, she suddenly snatched a sai from her boot and slit its mask, and the skin underneath. The pink fabric fell from the clone, fluttering to the ground and revealing a grotesque mutant's mouth, the effect made even more gruesome by the blood from its slit lips staining its teeth. Ching took her other sai and shoved it through the clone's heart, the tip glinting out of her back, and as the life faded from the abomination of nature, she let it slide off the sai and to the ground.

"Mileena wins," stated Shao Kahn.

"—But don't be too certain of your victory, Mileena," added Shang Tsung. "You must still face Kintaro."

As he spoke a door opened to the side of Kahn's throne, and entered a being that caused sheer terror at first sight. He was mostly Shokan, with four massive arms, but he was somehow even larger than the already gargantuan Goro, if not in height, then in width and bulk weight, and his coloring was far different. Kintaro was dark orange with black tiger stripes on his back, sharply contrasted by the pure white of his stomach. He wore more armor than Goro had, mimicking Kahn's in the proud attire of an Outworld general.

Ching stared at Kintaro with disbelief, but not in the same manner of awe as the others. She had seen this beast before, even fought beside him, and it was her knowledge of his brutality and strength that caused her to stare, wondering how she would ever defeat him. Yet somehow Johnny Cage had beaten Goro, and if he could win, surely she could.

Kahn gave the call to fight as Shang Tsung relaxed in a chair, smug.

Ching stood her ground, unsure of how to begin as Kintaro lumbered forward. As he grew close, she decided to simply try something, and hopped up with a kick. His ungainly gait belied his agility; he blocked her attack and as she fell back to the ground, pushed out a leg in an awkward, yet devastating, kick that sent Ching smashing into the ground, several feet away from her starting point. She pushed herself off the ground, willing away the pain of heavily bruised, if not broken, ribs. Her attempt to attack high had failed, so she tried low, trying to sweep him off his feet. He was far too heavy, and even as she swung her leg with all her strength, he barely stumbled, and then punched her into the ground.

Already becoming dizzy from the beating she was enduring, Ching decided that perhaps her unique abilities might allow her to gain the upper hand. She dropped through the floor, reappearing above the Shokan and attempting to drive her foot into his face. Kintaro caught her mid-flight and slammed her into the ground before him. He suddenly disappeared, and Ching, more out of instinct and luck than anything else, rolled to her right. Two huge feet slammed down where she had been a split second before, and the ground shook beneath her.

She stood beside him, attempting to uppercut him, but through her dizziness her judgment was impaired, and she barely grazed his chin. He reciprocated her movement, connected fully, and sent her flying into the air.

Everyone watching cringed as she slammed back to the ground.

Ching was unaware that anyone could hurt so much and still live. She pushed up the top half of her body, retching blood and vomit onto the ground, hardly able to see as she tried to hold onto her consciousness.

She heard the creature laughing at her as it prepared the final blow. She stood, hoping somehow she would be able to avoid it, and as she nearly collapsed from a pain in her hip, she pressed her hand against it to see if it was seriously injured. Instead she felt the cold leather handle of a sai. As Kintaro leaned back to spit a fireball, she pulled it out, and drawing on the last bits of her inner strength, teleported once more. This time she didn't even try to kick. The Shokan caught her just as she knew he would, and she locked her legs around his massive torso so he could not pull her away. With both hands she thrust the sai deep into his eye and on into the brain. He collapsed slowly to the ground and she felt as though her legs were almost crushed beneath his great weight before she managed to free them.

Ching stood carefully, testing her limbs. Blood ran into her right eye from a gash somewhere above it, and she could hardly bear to place weight on her injured hip. She hunched over so she would not stretch her battered ribs, and the world was moving so much that she thought she would be seasick.

But she had beaten Kintaro.

Shao Kahn was late with his announcement, possibly shocked that she had won, and Shang Tsung took over. "Somehow, amazingly, you have managed to defeat Kintaro, and while your technique could probably be considered illegal, as judge, I will accept it. But still do not rejoice. Shao Kahn blocks your path to victory."

Ching turned, wiping blood from her eye again and seeking reassurance from Yuan, that maybe she didn't have to fight all three in the same day. He did not make eye contact, deliberately avoiding her gaze, and also frantically searching the rules for something he could use to her advantage.

She looked back at Kahn, as he took his place opposite of her. Somehow, after Kintaro, he didn't look quite so impressive anymore. She pulled her arm behind her, adopting her fighting stance and trying not to whimper as this stretched the muscles around her battered ribs.

Shang Tsung yelled the order to fight, before Kahn had even acknowledged that he was ready, but it was still too late. Ching had already collapsed to the ground, unconscious.

"Ching Sa!" Yuan cried as he leapt into the arena.

Shang Tsung laughed triumphantly. "We win."

"Are you insane?" Yuan replied, examining her motionless body. "She's comatose! Doesn't it say somewhere that we get to replace her?"

"No. She forfeited. That's like losing."

"She didn't forfeit. She won her match and then she fell unconscious before her next match had started. That's not forfeiting."

"She wasn't affected by an outside force. Therefore, she failed herself, and cannot be replaced."

"Wasn't affected by an outside force? What do you call Kintaro? A figment of her imagination? It says that no one is expected to carry the injuries of previous into others, without at least two hours of rest. I found that passage just as you ordered them to fight; at about the same time I heard Ching hit the ground. That's why you rushed the fight, so I couldn't find that and stop it. That you made her continue after fighting the clone, and again after Kintaro is, in and of itself, violating the rules."

"She violated the rules when she killed Kintaro."

"But you chose to ignore it. I'm not choosing to ignore this, and the rules say that we, the kombatants, are the only ones who can choose to ignore the breaking of rules on your part, which is undoubtedly why you hid these rules so carefully. So we couldn't ever prove you wrong if you had to cheat. Ching was affected by an outside force, she did not forfeit, and we get to replace her."

Shang Tsung cursed. "Fine. Who do you choose?"

"Liu Kang. But first, don't you have some sort of medical ward? We need a stretcher."

"It's down that hall and to the left," Tsung indicated with a wave of his hand. "Can't you carry her?"

"I shouldn't even move her until I know what all is hurt. The least I can do is keep her in almost the same position, rather than bending her all over the place, and not providing adequate support. Get me a stretcher."

"Very well." Tsung clapped his hands and a small woman, dressed in white, left the ring quickly, entering the hall that led to the sick bay, and returning swiftly with two more slave girls and a stretcher.

"Somebody give me a hand?" asked Yuan as he prepared to lift Ching onto the stretcher.

"We'll handle it," said Kitana, beckoning for Jade to follow her. They placed her carefully onto the stretcher, and carried her into the medical room.

It was nothing like a modern hospital, resembling the demonic resurrection room rather than a doctor's office. The 'doctor' was a decrepit old woman, completely bald with gray wrinkled skin, light yellow irises in her eyes, seeming to be nearly void of color, long wicked looking fingernails, which were also yellow, and rotting. She smelled of blood and decay, rather than antiseptic. She pushed Yuan out of the way, and opened her bag, in which, among her examining equipment, there were things such as dried black cats' paws and arsenic.

Yuan stood as far away from her as possible, next to Kitana, and watched the old woman carefully, not trusting her. "Is she a demoness?" he whispered to Kitana.

"Yes," she replied, then mischievously added, "She's a witch doctor."

Yuan half-smiled. "You're starting to sound like my father. You aren't going to make jokes about how the penguins make you feel underdressed are you?"

"What?"

"Never mind."

"She is called Succubus," said Jade.

"Succubus? Isn't that...ew," he said, covering his face with his hands, "Bad mental picture."

Kitana laughed. "Don't worry, she haunts no more."

The old demoness walked over to the three, standing just in front of Yuan. She was less than five feet tall, and she stared up at him, making him even more uncomfortable.

"You were right," she croaked. "She's in a coma. She has severe injuries, and shouldn't be moved, unless you want to be responsible for her death. No telling when she'll wake up. Or if she will. Or if the masters will let her live even if she does." The evil woman laughed, the sound screeching like fingernails on a chalkboard. Without further ado, she left, taking her ancient leather bag with her.

Yuan sat next to Ching's bed. He stared at her for the longest time, waiting for some sign that she would miraculously wake up soon. Finally, he looked up. "What are we going to do?"

"We're going to leave," said a new voice. Kitana, Jade, and Yuan looked to the doorway to see a gray ninja standing there. "Immediately."

"Smoke, where've you been?" asked Yuan, walking to the door.

"No matter. We have to leave. Liu Kang has beaten Shao Kahn, and in their rage, the Outworlders are going to kill all the Earth warriors. Kitana, Jade, you have better come with us also. They may view you as traitors."

"I cannot," said Kitana. "My people are here. Now that Shao Kahn has been defeated, we need to try to restore Edenia. They will not kill me. I am their beloved princess."

"Jade?" asked Smoke.

"I can't go if Kitana won't, remember?"

"Yes, that's right. Well, come on, Yuan. We have to hurry."

"How are we going to bring Ching?"

Smoke paused, looking slightly uncomfortable. "We can't. How would we get her to the portal? Especially if she shouldn't be moved."

"I'm _not_ leaving her here," Yuan replied adamantly.

"Yuan, you have to come."

"No."

Smoke looked at Jade. She nodded, understanding his meaning, and walked forward to join them. The older Lin Kuei grabbed the younger around the waist and lifted him up, carrying him, struggling futilely, out the door. Jade slammed it shut and locked it. Smoke dropped Yuan.

He collapsed onto the floor, slamming his hand onto the door in vain and crying. "How could you do this?"

"They must not have both of you. It would all be over. Do you understand me?"

"No. But I'm not going to get back in, am I?"

"No."

"Well," Yuan said, standing, "let's go before we're killed."

Smoke handed him his bag. "That was easy," he commented.

"I'm not an idiot, Smoke. I know when I'm beaten. Which way?"

They ran down the halls, carefully avoiding guards and others with the stealth of the elite ninjas they were, until they reached an area awash in the indigo light of a giant portal. Several monks lay dead, their purple robes crumpled into piles on the floor, almost as though they'd disappeared. Raiden stood just outside the vortex's reach.

"You're last," he said. "Hurry." Smoke jumped through, as Shang Tsung burst through the door, enraged.

"Stop!" he yelled, but his words were cut off as a slender knife buried itself in his eye.

Raiden looked over to Yuan in surprise. "I didn't know you had throwing knives."

The despondent ninja shrugged and hopped through the portal.


	14. Resurrections

**Bondage**  
by Nyohah

14  
**Resurrections**  
Letter to Yuan Li

* * *

I want you to know that I do not blame you.

It's been, I don't even know how long, and I have awoken from my coma.

The first thing I noticed when I woke up was a silver band around my neck. It's etched with the same sort of demonic runes as on the doors and ceiling all over Tsung's rooms. I'm still not sure what it is for, but I have a feeling it's something that will ensure I do not betray them again.

The second thing I noticed was the Demon Master's presence.

Apparently he was resurrected sometime during the tournament. He has resurrected Tsung. The only good news I have to offer is that I no longer have to marry Tsung, as I belong to the Master again, now, and he doesn't wish it. Apparently Tsung had his chance, and he ruined it.

He also brought back Shao Kahn, who is more determined than ever to capture the Earth Realm. Kitana's plan to restore Edenia failed before it was even started because of these resurrections.

Kitana was there when I awoke, beside my bed. She and Jade had been taking turns watching me ever since you were forced to leave.

She was quite upset. When I asked her what was wrong, she just whispered about her mother. I pressed the subject, and she said, "She's back, and sh-she's _evil_."

I was still confused, but I had to report to the Master as soon as I cleaned up, which is where I first saw the newly resurrected Tsung and Kahn. They were all watching through a pool some woman attended by the witch who had served as my doctor.

The woman inside had once been beautiful, but now she was completely white, white hair bearing a single black streak, her eyes the white of the undead. Her hair was the longest I have ever seen, and it engulfed her, seeming to weigh as much as she did. Her fingernails were long, curled, and black, nearly resembling the witch woman's except for color.

"Empress Sindel," said Shang Tsung. "Former Queen of Edenia, and mother of our own Princess Kitana. She was Kahn's wife before her untimely death. But now, resurrected on the Earth Realm, she will be our key. All Kahn has to do is enter the realm to claim her, and victory shall be ours."

This is frightening. Kitana, Jade, and I will not be going when he starts his attack. I was talking to Jade about this, and she did have words of comfort, however.

After the others had left, she walked up behind me and said, "Cage's blood was not ideal."

"Excuse me?"

"They used Cage's blood to resurrect Kitana's mother and turn her evil. But Cage's blood wasn't ideal, remember, because he was not defeated three times."

"So?"

"There might be some problems."

"You're guessing, aren't you. Just trying to reassure yourself."

"No, I heard them talking about it. Something about how she isn't completely evil, and she might turn from them if she learns the truth, not just the lies they will feed her."

You need to know about this, but I can't imagine how I'd ever get word to you. I guess you'll just have to figure it out on your own. It's not like you're not smart enough, or anything.

Yuan, I don't hold you responsible for anything that has happened, in Hong Kong or here. I know you're probably blaming yourself for everything, but it was much more my fault than it could ever be yours. I forgive you for the one flaw I think you had, naïveté. I know this is only the second time I've ever told you this, but I love you. Don't doubt it. You've told me endless times, and I don't deserve it.

Please forgive me. I was horrible to you, I used you. Don't worry about me. I've survived most of my life in the grip of evil; I'll make it a while longer.

Say hello to my father and sister, and her husband. Give my regards to your mother.

It occurs to me that we have both cheated death twice. That has to mean something.

I love you.

Hua Ching Sa

* * *

The End

"Twisted every way what answer can I give?  
Am I to risk my life to win the chance to live?"  
- Andrew Lloyd Webber's _The Phantom of the Opera_


End file.
